


The Hunter of Hunters

by Echowhisper



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically Geoffrey has a long couple of days, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echowhisper/pseuds/Echowhisper
Summary: When a new threat emerges in the aftermath of the Disaster, it's Priwen's fearless leader that falls victim; bringing to light a corruption hidden in London's streets and a sinister plan for change. Can Reid save the hunter he spared back at Pembroke, or will he regret not granting him immortality while he still had the chance?





	1. Tea Time

**Author's Note:**

> [Hello! I hope you enjoy the read! This is my first fanfiction and the story is completely scattered around in my mind, so any and all feedback is GREATLY appreciated! It's gonna be a bit of a slow burn to get to the McReid part of this since it's primarily action and suspense, but It'll get there eventually. I hope you enjoy!]

A mysterious invitation from a prospective investor to Priwen... It was an offer that sounded shady at best, and a death trap at worst. McCullum would have laughed in the man's face had his offer not seemed so tempting with an estimate on what he could 'donate', and the cross he wore oh-so-genuine. The prospective investor was no Vampire to be sure, and this gave Geoffrey just enough of a reason to agree to a meeting with the meek, balding man from the West End. With an extra man and their weapons, of course.

So here he was, his large frame waiting for the stupid oak door to open as he tightened the straps on his crossbow, sparing a glance at the Captain he brought along with him.

"You look more nervous than our latest batch of recruits, Finn. If this 𝘪𝘴 a trap, and there are leeches lying in wait here then we kill 'em, simple as that. This isn't our first time clearing out a house, you know that." He pointed out to the shorter blond man.

Finn was one of his oldest Captains, having served Priwen way back when Carl Eldritch was in charge and Geoffrey was just some disgruntled snot-nosed kid with an attitude. Well... a 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 snot-nosed kid with an attitude. Geoffrey had a few years on him, and a few inches, too, but what Finn lost in height and bulk he made up for in snark and skill. Sandy blonde hair and a set of mutton chops he 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 looked good the man scowled at his leader and friend's words, shaking his head.

"It's not that it's just... You know what tonight is, McCullum, it's a bad night for this- a bad omen. I don't like it. Something about this just doesn't feel right! Are you sure we can't do this tomorrow?" He asked, glancing down to fiddle with his pistol and make sure it wasn't going to jam.

For all Jack Finn knew anything and 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 could go wrong on this unlucky night. Geoffrey merely rolled his eyes at the superstitious behavior, shaking his head and placing a hand on the man's shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. "Have 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉, Jack, not fear. Your wives' tales will send you to an early grave before the beasts can at this rate. We can handle whatever comes our way, we always have. Either we get the money and the boys get to actually eat something decent for once, or we have to fight for our lives."

Jack rolled his eyes, huffing. "Gee, well when you say it like that, Geoffrey, how could I say no?" Despite the sarcasm it 𝘥𝘪𝘥 remind him that, while he didn't like it, it's what McCullum ordered, and he likely had good reasons to. Jack's mind could only boggle at the stress of having to lead, and he certainly didn't envy his fellow hunter's position.

Their conversation was decidedly cut short as the front door opened and the man with thick frames and a face far too plump for anyone in wartime smiled at them in greeting, glancing at their weapons firmly held. "Greetings, Gentlemen! I'd invite you in but- well... You can never be too careful, can you? Heh..."

Stepping back the plump man heads further back into the house, letting the Priwen members step in of their own accord and into the main room. It was strung with crosses and lines with carved Latin into the walls, resembling something of a religious fanatic or maniac's den, which, to the outside world the people in the business of hunting Vampires 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 those people. To McCullum it was a good sign that this man probably wasn't enthralled, and knew something of the trade... Though the Latin was useless he could figure maybe he was just a 𝘣𝘪𝘵 of a nutter at 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕. It wasn't that he could read it, but he's seen it tried before. It doesn't end well.

"Please, have a seat! I've already got some tea brewing, and some fresh crackers and cheese on the table! Make yourselves at home." He offered as he shuffled over to the stove. Finn did just that, although he kept hold of his pistol as he did.

McCullum took his seat next to the other and reached across for some of the snacks, taking a quick sniff before popping one in his mouth and leaning his forearm free of his crossbow on his knee. Christ he was starving... With the dead no longer coming back as rabid Skals and the mass graves shrinking in size it was getting harder to scrape by looting corpses. As unsavory as it was Geoffrey figured they no longer needed it, and it was better than stealing from the living. With how things were going, however, he worried it would resort o that, and then they'd really start looking like the criminals the people thought they were.

"So, Mister...?" "Reeves! William Reeves, at your service, Gentlemen!"

"Reeves, right. So how does a banker of all things find out about this life?" Geoffrey asked, trying to get straight to the point. Finn scoffed lightly at the no-nonsense attitude and reached for a cheese snack, keeping his eyes alert. "...Most of the wealthier folks are either sucked dry, or part of the problem. No offense." He added as an afterthought. It was no secret Geoffrey didn't like rich people, saw them for a bunch of selfish, self-entitled pricks, but he could play nice for a little while.

"Ah, yes well! Funny story that." He starts, returning with the tray of cups of hot tea to serve his guests as he takes a seat across from them. Finn was all too eager to take the cup with a nod before taking a drink to let the crackers and cheese go down easier, though careful to keep his gaze to the dark stairwell and corners of the room for any Vampires lying in wait. "I had a client who talked about it! Ranted, more like, but I-I can see why! There is 𝒔𝒐 much the people don't know!"

Geoffrey gave the man a suspicious squint. "A man talks about leeches and you don't write him off as crazy?" The Irishman sounded skeptical, to which the Banker was quick to reassure. "Oh no, sir! I did! I did indeed! That is... Until his body was found strewn about the following morning." One of those wolfish ones, Geoffrey figured as downed most of the tea, washing down the dry cracker that seemed to stick to his throat.

"Most people, well they wrote it off as a wild animal, as some rabid dog! But me? I knew better now. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 got to that man, something far more powerful than any common beast of London. I feel like I owe it to that poor man to help the cause!" He offered, clasping his hands together with a smile. "Now me? I-I-I'm no fighter, I could do nothing but perish at the sight of one of those things, but Priwen? Why your work around here is par none!" Geoffrey hummed in thought, giving him a slight nod and reaching for another snack. "Surprised you aren't giving to the war effort."

"McCullum..." Finn's voice interjected, interrupting Geoffrey before he could move on to the actual business part of the meeting. He sounded weak, drawing Geoffrey's attention as he slumped over out of his chair. "Finn!?" He was on his feet in a moment, starting to lean over his comrade to check on him when he nearly lost his balance doing so as his legs felt suddenly weaker. He brought his crossbow up to aim at the man, glaring daggers. "What did you do to him!?" He asked furiously, feeling more lightheaded as he stood there over his friend. His arm, usually so strong and steady, was swaying like he was on a ship- or was it everything else swaying?

"Just a simple tonic, not 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 lethal. Just something to make this go smoother." The man explained as he calmly stood. The action spurred Geoffrey to fire at him, though the bolts only hit the wood of the table or far wall and he had to immediately lean forward to catch himself on the table, his brow sweating and his vision growing blurry as the drugs were quickly taking effect. "What- ...Why?" He asked through gritted teeth, losing his grip and collapsing on the floor. His limbs weren't working quite right, his movements sluggish. He rolled onto his side and attempted to jam a finger to the back of his throat to induce vomiting, hearing the door open and four sets of shoes enter the building. It all sounded so far away...

Until suddenly it was right there next to him, like some wraith teleporting in to end him. Though instead of claws there were two sets of hands grabbing him by each arm to haul him up to his knees. He was a fool, he realized as he faced the man, to think solely Vampires could be the threat. He had gone so long fighting them by the dozens that he'd forgotten the machinations of man.

"Why? Because, Mr. McCullum, It's like I said. Priwen is par 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, and it's long since time that you hunters be put back in your place with the rest of the flock to let our shepherds flourish once again. London does not need fanatical thugs swarming the streets, she needs order!" He explained, ready to go on the whole song and dance of whatever he was selling. Geoffrey wouldn't have it. "Even... Even if you kill me... Pr... Priwen will-"

"Will prevail, yes, we've heard the rallying shouts before. We aren't here to kill you just yet, Mr. McCullum, don't worry we're simply the messengers... Well 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 are, anyways. Speaking of which, taking him out to the carriage. We're already behind schedu-" 'CRACK!' the loud sudden sound of a gunshot pierced the air and the grip on his right arm was gone as the man there dropped dead. Geoffrey couldn't do much besides listen to what his gut instincts screamed for him to- sucker punch the other man right in the jaw to try and get him to let go and escape.

'CRACK!' another gunshot, but not the man he's just attacked. No, that man was back on him and 𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 about the new welt, judging by the hands wrapping tightly around his neck and pushing him to the ground with some string of muffled swears his muddled brain couldn't bother to make out even if he wanted to. Geoffrey struggled as best he could against the death grip, reaching out with a hand for anything within range that wasn't some fresh corpse. He found a small knife on the corpse, managing to pull it from the dead man's belt despite the black spots blossoming in his vision and driving it up into the man's neck, spraying blood over his face and chest. He was left there gasping for air as two more sets of hands came to replace the old ones, hoisting him up so his feet were just dragging as he was led out the door. The last thing he coherently saw before was the trail of fresh blood leading to the new hole in between poor Finn's green eyes, still open and practically staring into his soul.

'Christ the one time the bastard's right about his omens...' He mournfully thought as he was met with the cool London night air and his world went dark.


	2. Carriage Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Not too much going on in this chapter, still focused on Geoffrey for now. Next chapter we'll jump over to Jonathan's POV as he starts picking up on the trail of blood crumbs McCullum is unintentionally leaving behind in his struggles.]

Waking up feeling like a sack of pure led bricks was nothing too terribly new for McCullum. He lived a difficult life that was physically taxing, and that came with plenty of evenings of muscle fatigue and fresh bruises or cuts from the monsters he fought. That coupled with those rare times he took to drink made the man wish for death more times than not on the following morning.

The sound of hooves and slight jostling to wake him was new, however.

With a heavy groan the man cracked his still heavy eyelids open, revealing mostly canvas, a couple of bottles, some boxes... He was on the back of a wagon, conveniently covered by canvas from the prying eyes of anyone drunk or miserable enough to still be up at such an early hour. This wasn't right... Despite how muddled his mind and thoughts were he knew something was terribly wrong with this picture and he needed to get out of here. 𝑵𝒐𝒘!

Thankfully the men who poisoned him didn't have the foresight to restrain him beyond some old rope to his wrists, likely confident that he'd be too weak from the drugs to regain consciousness... That or they were just plain stupid. They didn't seem to account for how much of a stubborn arse he could be, which worked greatly to his advantage as he forced his body to respond to his mind. With a wince, he lurched his torso up enough to crawl himself towards the back of the wagon and taking far too long to try and find the latches for the back.

"I don't see why we had to leave in such a hurry." A voice piped up from the front, the driver speaking to the man sitting next to him. Geoffrey paused at the strange accent and debated to stay and listen before his common sense told him how stupid that was. He had to escape, who gives a fuck who these people are when he was still captive?

"Because you were the moron who shot someone in the middle of a city!" His companion explained as Geoffrey managed to slide open one of the latches, shifting to get the other side to open it.

"There's gunshots going off every night! What did you want me to do, let the fucker shoot us?"

"No, but the dandy who hired us is pissed. I wouldn't be surprised if he cuts our pay down for it..."

Though their conversation continued Geoffrey wasn't going to stick around to hear it. The second latch slid open and the back of the wagon fell back to let the Irishman roll off and out from under the tarp fairly quietly, though he lands with a pained grunt and a groan as the wind is knocked from his lungs.

Yeah, definitely not the ideal situation, but he'd be a fool to wait for it to stop to try and escape.

Which he set to work to; rolling on to his stomach to push himself up with a wince. He was still light-headed from all the movement and his heartbeat hammered in his ears like a set of loud drums. It was overexerted despite the simple task, no doubt from whatever cursed drug that slimeball baker spiked the tea with. As soon as he was back on his feet the man took off as best he could in the opposite direction of the Carriage, looking closer to a drunk than a Vampire hunter. With the sky starting to lighten he could see a fair number of buildings not too far off, lining the major parts of the city. They were still close... Close enough to where McCullum could make it back before noon if he was lucky.

"Hey! Stop the wagon! He's trying to escape!" Came the distant call from behind, spurring the hunter on faster in an attempt at freedom. The footsteps behind him were loud, heavy, and definitely not from any vampire. Whatever thugs that man hired were sloppy, rushing for him without one whit of fear or concern, and hardly better than Skals. He certainly liked them just as much.

As they neared and he realized there was no way in Hell he'd outrun these men in his pitiful state, he decided to use their recklessness to his advantage. Stopping suddenly he spun around with his hands linked together to use as a club and strike the man almost upon him in the cheek. The momentum from the turn and the swing itself seemed enough to make the man stumble to the ground with a surprised swear. How he managed to actually hit the guy even he wasn't sure. His head was still spinning, but he could feel the knuckles connect to the man's cheekbone, felt the sting from it too.

The man had reeled back from the hit, sure, but he hadn't been alone. His partner in crime who had been seated next to him tackled Geoffrey to the ground after the swing, getting up enough press a heavy knee to his chest as he gave him a few good punches of his own. Geoffrey's vision flashed white and came back red as the thug bloodied their prisoner's face and broke his nose, staining the street beneath him with flecks of red to soon be smeared in their struggle.

Geoffrey cried out in pain from the blunt trauma and the sharp snap of the cartilage there, doing his best to swing back at him out of desperation before his brain had another brief moment of clear, almost brilliant thought and he instead brought his fists down on the man's groin 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. It brought a relief of pressure from his chest as the thug doubled over and curled up in pain. Geoffrey would take no pause for smug satisfaction as he scrambled to his feet quicker this time to take off, very nearly making it to the lining of tightly packed houses before a gunshot rang out, and a searing pain ripped through his side. He yelled in both surprise and pain, stumbling but refusing to stop as he made it to the first of the houses.

'Just break line of sight, then hide... There's got to be at least 𝘰𝘯𝘦 empty house around to hole up in for a while.' His line of thinking was sound, but his feet just wouldn't move fast enough for it to mean much of anything.

A second shot rang out, and this time it was his thigh that took the hit, forcing him to stumble over himself and crash hard into the ground with a scream of pain. No matter how tough or experienced he was he was still only human and taking a bullet hurts like 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍, especially when it hit such an important part of the body. He held the wound, curling in like a child with a scraped knee as his eyes were shut tight and his teeth bared in pain.

He fought hard to keep from blacking out right away with a string of angry curses, opening his eyes to see the fresh crimson spreading from the wound before he put pressure on it. It went clean through he could guess by the sticky feeling already on the back of the leg, and if he was lucky he'd die before these bastards could take him wherever it was they were going.

It felt like ages before the two sets of boots approached him, one chuckling and sounding awfully pleased with the sight. "Almost lost ya there, Mac!" The drive spoke first, and the arrogance in his tone made Geoffrey's blood boil.

"Should've told us you needed to stretch your legs! Wouldn't've had to shoot yours then!" The other chimed in, the pair laughing at the joke in poor taste. "Ffff- Fucking Americans... Agh! And your fucking guns." He hissed, recognizing the accent not commonly heard in London these days.

The one who must have shot him cocked his rifle again, aiming it at his prone form. "Oh-ho I'd watch your mouth, Mac, otherwise that'll go next!" He threatened; although Geoffrey noted as he turned his hateful blue gaze towards them the other gave him a serious look of warning, slapping the other thug's chest with the back of his hand. "Hey. If he bleeds out we don't get paid at all. Put it away and let's go. We still got a long ride ahead of us."

The other did so reluctantly as his cohort began to walk to the wagon. After sparing another glance at his friend he looks back to McCullum with that arrogant, aggravating smirk before suddenly and harshly ramming the butt of his rifle into the Irishman's face, knocking him out before he'd drag him back to the wagon. There wouldn't be a next time for the man, as the rifleman decided to camp in the back with the prisoner and let the driver keep watch up front.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I won't lie, I'm playing a lot of RDR2 right now so I figured what better than some hired thugs from early 1900's America? Sorry if the nationality irks anyone.]


	3. Silent Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Reid goes snooping around where he shouldn't and Priwen is on lockdown. Apparently nobody ever told him curiosity kills the vamp.]

The streets of London were, for once, eerily silent. Sure things had been becoming more peaceable since the disaster was destroyed and the citizens were no longer being infected by Skal blood. Now it was a simple flu epidemic, with which many brilliant minds were already hard at work trying to find a cure for. Reid, meanwhile, had decidedly taken a short break from trying to invent life-saving cures and stick to being the doctor Swansea had technically hired him for.

Which included both working directly at Pembroke as well as keeping up with his rounds about the city, delivering vital, precious medicine to the people who needed it to live but did not necessarily have the money or means to go to an already overcrowded hospital. He would normally start at the docks where things were most dangerous Skal and crime-wise, visiting that Sad Saint Sean Hampton and his followers, as well as the terribly sad Mrs. Fishburn and her newly adopted son Rufus. Jonathan was a forgiving and patient man for most, but Seymour... It was the first time he willingly fed from someone, and he hoped it'd be the last. The man was sick, cruel, and he could hear his voice echo in his mind as he drained him down by his pile of hidden victims. It was a moment of weakness for the Doctor, who had seen red not from bloodlust, but from anger. The situation ended for the better in his opinion, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge for the sickly, soft-spoken old woman.

Next, he would move up through the relatively quiet West End, stopping by to chat briefly with his increasingly senile mother and old loyal Avery, careful of Ascalon's remaining members wherever he went. If he was lucky he could catch Clarence and Charlotte on the main street to check up on them and their various problems. He was sure to avoid the other half of the West End, however, as the detective still did not trust him, the twins were a headache in and of themselves, and he'd rather not ever see Ms. Price again after learning of her abuses.

Finally, he would pass through Whitechapel, where he normally had the biggest problems with hunters and the residents. They were stubborn, angry, suffering... But of course who wasn't these days? Still, Whitechapel in particular just seemed... rough. Like even the rats there would try to pick a fight. If it weren't for those Wet Boot Boys this would certainly be the place to avoid at night.

Except unlike the usual tempo of things tonight 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 seemed quiet. Sure he'd killed a few Skals or Ekons here and there, those still creeping about looking for an easy meal, but not a single Priwen hunter. It was a relief that a night should go his way for once, not having to slink around like some cat... But it was also worrisome. What were they planning? Another Great Hunt? Surely Geoffrey wouldn't change his mind so soon!

Well... He very well could, but the man was anything but fickle. It took a lot to get the man to change his mind and Reid didn't believe he'd lie to him, even if the doctor was the very thing he despised so passionately.

Whatever the case it could not bode well, which was why rather than going directly back to Pembroke at the end of his rounds through the city he instead made his way over to Doris Fletcher's former theater, now turned Headquarters for Priwen until they'd inevitably be flushed out by actual law enforcement after the War and endemic was over.

Silent as the night he shadow jumped his way up the usual scaffolding, trying in vain to open the window and sneak in the same way he had before. No such luck... he should have figured they would reinforce the place now that they'd settled, which meant getting closer and eavesdropping. Thankfully his undead disposition granted him such incredible senses! Focusing on the inside of the building he could notice the fairly large collection of hunters inside by their heartbeats.

No McCullum, but one of his Captains stood on stage addressing the group. Reid broke concentration to move down to ground level, closer to where they were inside and taking cover along the side of the building beneath one of the boarded up window as he strained to listen in.

"...still hasn't shown up. I know, I know you louts usually get your patrols from Finn or Wesley, but they ain't here right now! Wesley's gone off to look for 'em, and until we get a full headcount nobody but him and his crew get to leave."

"But sir! What about the leeches?"

"They're just gonna have to wait, Smith! We're already down two of our top brass, and if we lose any more then we'll be right up shit's creek, won't we? We might be gettin' targeted, and McCullum wouldn't want us running out like a bunch of headless cocks gettin' ourselves killed by whatever leech is arrogant enough to try messin' with Priwen like this! So just... Give it a little while, hang out here, make sure yer weapons are cleaned and ready. They'll be back soon enough."

So Priwen's leadership was going missing? That sounded fortunate for maybe a good number of people he had the misfortune of knowing, but still worrisome for Jonathan. If it 𝒘𝒂𝒔 a vampire attacking them, then they clearly had some plan that needed the hunters out of the way. If it wasn't, well... It couldn't hurt to investigate. As brutish and extreme as their methods were he couldn't deny it protected people.

Moving away from the side of the building Reid took a fair amount of time in finding the old trail of four men who had left the theater earlier that. Likely this Wesley and his men. He followed it as best he could until he spotted the faint red dots of their hearts, to which he moved in on the scene of the men investigating a large, wealthy-looking house. He couldn't see inside beyond Captain Wesley's circulatory system if he focused, but he could listen as they poked around the place, pressing himself against the corner of the building.

"Christ, poor Finn... You know he was having a baby? So proud of that news." One of the hunters commented as he helped carry a blanket-covered mass outside. From the thick smell of dried blood and the way they spoke, he could assume the Captain didn't make it. The other sighed as they set him down, making the symbol of the cross with his hands and bowing his head. "Poor bastard... We're gonna have to give his wife the bad news, too. That's always the worst part of shit like this."

"Maybe scrape together what we find here and get her somethin' nice for the baby when it comes?" A third offered, waiting up by the front door as he leaned on the open door frame. Reid didn't know any of these men, but the way they talked... It was strange to hear anything from Priwen's hunters that were hateful shouts towards him. They seemed close, and loyal. Likely they would shoot him on sight even if he 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 a vampire right now.

With another look around he noted an open window on the second floor, focusing himself to shadow jump up to the balcony and sneak his way inside. He could see Captain Wesley below, but the owner was apparently long gone if he could slip in uninvited... Or maybe because Priwen had already broken in downstairs? It was all still something of an enigma to the good doctor these... Vampire laws. Dear Elizabeth could only tell him so much, but still, there were many pieces missing from his knowledge on his own kind.

Whatever the reasoning he would take to work looking around the room while he could, noting strange symbols carved into the wall, along with Latin. "In the dark we are... ascended... Praise the... eternal night? Well, that's not ominous or anything." He murmured to himself, thanking his medical training and higher education for being able to piece the crazed scrawling together. The words would have been shrugged off had there not already been a body, and a still missing McCullum. Searching the room he found little else besides more madman's scribbles he crept his way downstairs, noting Wesley in the next room, but failing to notice the myriad of crosses lining the walls until he was almost at the bottom.

His heart would have skipped a beat had it still been alive and working properly as he stumbled on the last step in his surprise. Thankfully that painful, blinding light never came, and Reid couldn't help but feel unsettled by that realization. Why have so many crosses if their owner didn't have faith to actually ward off vampires? Just why was Priwen here to begin with?

He wouldn't get a chance to ponder it further as Wesley came back into the room, pistol drawn and glaring daggers at the doctor, who put his hands up in surrender. Fuck of 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 he heard that little scuffle. Silent as Reid usually was these men were highly trained to hunt his kind. "I... come in peace...?" He offered, pale blue eyes locked on Wesley and widening slightly as the man pulled back the hammer to cock his gun.


	4. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tentative alliance is formed and Reid is voluntold to help by being Priwen's bloodhound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So I wrote out a rough idea on the chapter topics and it looks like this is going to be anywhere from 16-18 chapters depending on how long two of them get when I actually go to write them I might break into two. I won't put a number of total chapters until I know for sure.)

Jonathan Reid had thought himself done with staring down gun barrels the day he was officially and honorably discharged from the war.

Apparently, Myrddin had other plans when he chose him as his champion, and that in turn made him many an enemy in Priwen... Like Captain Wesley, for example, who was currently aiming to put a bullet in his heart.

"Wait, please, I really do mean you no harm!" Reid pleaded in a hushed tone, careful not to alert the men outside. The Captain's finger paused, but he looked far from convinced.

"You expect me to believe a leech, of his own volition, is snooping around this 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 house while we're here? You're either an idiot or... No that's the only reasoning for it." He commented, his tone as calm and steady as his hand or heartbeat. It wasn't often Reid actually met any of Geoffrey's higher-ups, and he could see just how well trained they seemed compared to the fresh-faced recruits wildly swinging about their torches in a panic. He could wager they'd seen their fair share of Vampires and still lived to tell about it.

"I am perfectly aware of the danger, Hunter... What I am not aware of is what's going on. Why aren't your men on patrol, and just where is Geoffrey McCullum?" He asked, bringing his hands higher when the Captain's gun arm tensed to fire.

Rather than just shooting Reid he raised his voice instead. "Greyhill!" He called, and the man at the door soon entered. "Yes, Boss...?" He asked, trailing off as his eyes met the doctor and he trained his crossbow on him. "Easy." Wesley soothed, though his posture didn't exactly convey soothing... At least not for the Vampire. "Go outside, get Johnson to run back to HQ and tell them we've got a leech to bring in. Then you and Chase come back in here in case Dr. Reid tries anything funny. Now."

The other man took to action at the order, leaving the Captain alone for just a few precious moments. This would be the time for Reid to flee or attack. It wasn't worth dying (again) to find a missing hunter who hated his very being.

Before he was given a chance the captain slowly lowered his weapon, loosening his grip and holstering it against all his training and common bloody sense. It was enough to leave Reid in the same pose of surrender with his brows furrowed quizzically.

"We know you spared Geoffrey that night we took Swansea for interrogation. As insane as it sounded then, seeing you willingly come here to investigate his disappearance and offer surrender seems even madder." He explained, keeping his eyes trained on Reid and making no move to shoot him even as the doctor slowly lowered his hands. "In all honesty, I could use the help, though the others won't like it."

"You must be fairly desperate to break your orders."

At the admission the two grunts working with Wesley stepped in, gun and crossbow drawn and ready to fire, but stopped with a hand raised by the Captain. Not once did he look away from Reid, keeping his eyes trained on him as a Hawk, looking for any change in body language.

"Things are complicated right now, Doctor Reid. My orders are to find our leader, and right now you're our best hope at that. The only-"

"You're cutting him a deal!?"

"The 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 reason I'm offering this to you is for lack of a better choice, and because you've been shown to spare our Commander before." His voice was clearly annoyed at the outburst from Chase, and his counterpart Greyhill gave him a rough elbow to the side and a look of 'come on man, just go with it! He's the 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'. The action didn't sit well with the hunter, but he kept his mouth shut and his crossbow aimed at Reid's head.

"And just what is it you're offering me here, Captain? Work for Priwen or die? I hardly call that a fair trade."

"𝒀𝒐𝒖 were the one who came here, Doctor Reid, of your own free will. You stuck your neck out the moment you decided to snoop around while we were investigating. Whatever Geoffrey is to you... He's family to us. We need him back. 𝑳𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒏 needs him back. Even if he's just a corpse to bury it's... More important to us than a leech could ever know."

Had Wesley not seemed like such a serious type Reid might question if he was joking. Perhaps waiting for Reid to turn his back before shooting him! But the reactions from his men, and how steady his heart was while speaking... He wasn't lying; Priwen must be a tighter-knit community than he thought... Not that he gave it much thought at all, he now realized. All he knew was their hatred, and Edgar's understandably justified gripes about the brutes.

"...I suppose if you'll refrain from shooting me I can take a look around." He finally agreed, giving a slight nod and glancing at the lower ranked hunters. They were flagged down by Wesley, and exchanged a glance between one another before slowly lowering their weapons. Reid offered a(n admittedly somewhat smug) smile before stepping slower tot he table to focus in and examine the aftermath of the fight.

"Do you know why McCullum would be here? This hardly seems his type of residence." Reid commented, kneeling down to examine the body with the knife in his throat. Based on the spray and location Reid could guess the stab punctured the Carotid artery. Either the killer was skilled or just plain lucky.

"That's Priwen's business, not yours, Leech!" Came the stiff response from Greyhill, to which the vampire gave the Captain a deadpanned look, clearly unamused by the lack of cooperation.

"They were meeting with someone promising to finance the cause." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in agitation. "We were already looking into it, but most of the others were writing this off as a leech attack."

With a nod the Doctor stands to examine the other blood splatters, pausing at a strange odor coming from the table. The hunters wouldn't be able to pick up on it, the scent was far too faint, but Reid had a sinking feeling as he picked up the various items on the table to give them a sniff. The looks he got were strange but easily ignored as he found the sources.

"Two of these cups have been spiked with something." He commented, sparing another glance at the ominous Latin carved into the wall and the various blood stains and signs of the struggle.

"Well, I think it's safe to say this was most certainly a trap. Whoever they met with surely planned something ill for your Commander from the beginning, although I don't think he expected such a fight from him." He commented, getting a solemn nod from Wesley who spared a glance to follow Reid's gaze, though his lingered on the crosses on the wall. "I should have figured as much."

Going over to the wall he takes down one of the crosses, noting how light it is before flipping it over to find it hollowed and full of more fanatical carvings along the inside. The discovery disgusted him, and he tossed the useless decoration aside. "Anything else, Detective leech?" He asked with a dry sarcasm.

Reid took the moment to really focus, and the dried blood glowed dully in his now dark surroundings. He could trace the trail out the door, but it was blocked by the two guardsmen.

"Well he left a trail of blood I could follow." He admits, taking a step towards it but pausing when the hunters raised their weapons to him. He let his focus drop and raised his hands slightly in surrender again.

"Good. We'll try out luck with it tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow...?"

"The sun's almost out, Doctor Reid, and the others are going to want a retelling of what happened here." Wesley explained, drawing his pistol from its holster.

Reid shook his head, glancing at the door for any signs of light. None yet, but he could feel his time here was almost up. Usually, he'd be back at Pembroke by now, toiling away at his work for a cure to the Blood of Hate. Right now it seemed he was to be escorted back to the Theater where all manner of Vampire hunters were waiting for him.

It would be so much quicker if he did this on his own, but curse his good manners and stubborn moral code! If Captain Wesley was right then he didn't have much time tonight for tracking anyhow, and he didn't need to kick the hornet's nest further by running now.

"And you can't do that yourself? I'd rather not risk going into the lion's den if I can, Hunter. As a doctor, I can assure you it's quite bad for one's health."

The comment made the Captain's eyes roll. "I can assure you we won't harm you unless you withhold information from us. Now unless you enjoy burning in the early sun I suggest you start walking, Doctor Reid. I'm certain you know where Fletcher's theater is?"

"Like the back of my hand." He adds with a tight smile before following Greyhill out of the house and onto the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So the first three chapters were already pre-written on my Facebook RP account, so from this one on it might take a wee bit longer to write/upload due to my crazy shift-work and strange timezone. I hope y'all can be patient with me, and enjoy the story so far! Let me know what y'think!)


	5. Exposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey learns a few things, none of it good, and all of it raising more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((So as fair warning things are going to really diverge from what little we know in canon. I'll explain more at the end but let me know what you think of this new information! Also from here on, I'm going to try and alternate chapters and whose perspective it is. This one is Geoffrey, next is Jonathan, back to Geoffrey, etc.))

A bucket of cold water and a slap to the face proved to be quite the alarm as it ripped Geoffrey from a dreamless sleep and into harsh reality. It took a few minutes to regain his bearings, sputtering and gasping for breath from the shock of the icy water. When he did regain them, however, he was loathed to see the familiar faces of the hired thugs who brought him here. His attitude was made apparent by how he scowled bitterly at them, earning a smug grin from the more trigger-happy one.

"Rise n' shine, Sweetheart! Boss wants to talk to you." He explained all too eagerly, earning a suspicious glare from McCullum.

"Where-" He creaked, pausing to clear his throat. That drink really must've dried him out, or maybe from breathing through his mouth in his sleep. Breathing through a broken nose proved a bit painful, after all, though from what he could see of it it looked like someone tried to reset it while he was knocked out. It was then that he noticed the fresh bandages on his leg and side, and a distinct lack of being dead from blood loss. The metal shackles were new, likely to prevent a second escape.

"How long was I out...?" He finally managed to ask. He had a thousand questions, but getting one's bearings was probably the most important one in a kidnapping situation.

"Day and a half." The other American answered plainly, not so much as looking up from the piece of wood he was whittling. "You looked like you needed the rest."

It might have been a dry sarcasm, but Geoffrey picked up on it nonetheless and gave the man a flat, unamused look. It certainly explained why he hurt so damn much, even beyond the being shot part his muscles were tense.

"I'm surprised you bothered to patch me up at all."

The man with the bucket snorted as he set it down, reaching over to hoist McCullum up from the steel chair he'd been in. Geoffrey didn't want to think about what it was used for, though he knew damn well it wasn't for comfort and relaxation. Priwen had its fair share of torture methods, and it didn't take a genius to figure a locked cell with a chair like that was used for anything but getting information from someone.

"Oh that wasn't us. Nah I'd rather watch the sepsis kick in. Our boss don't want you dead just yet... Somethin' about makin' an example of you? I tune him out most times."

"He 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 enjoy the sound of his own voice." The compatriot added from the corner, putting his knife away to assist in guiding Geoffrey out of the cell.

It was a bit slow considering he still had to limp to get anywhere. At least it wasn't as agonizing as it had first been. Painful for sure, but dulled down from before.

As they made their way from the cell and down the hall he noted the lit braziers mounted to the wall in even increments, leading to an old wooden door. Were they in a castle? It certainly looked medieval enough for it. Just who were these wackos, hiding out in some bloody castle waiting to attack Priwen? Just who the hell did he piss off this time?

Finally making it through the door Geoffrey now found himself in a large great Hall converted into some sort of bizarre, occulted church. They had entered though a side entrance, close to a large stone statue of some horned woman in robes looming over a stone slab table, her gaze focused down on the empty slab expectantly with a knife in her hand, though her eyes did not have pupils Geoffrey could still feel their direction, and he had a sneaking suspicion he'd wind up under that gaze if he didn't escape here soon.

Before the table stood a man in blood red robes, facing the statue with his hands raised in praise or prayer.

Rows of pews lines the room and Geoffrey was moved up to sit on the nearest one to the man and the statue. Like some diligent church boy he was likely expected to sit quietly and politely wait, but Geoffrey was anything but polite to people he didn't like, and these people were at the very top of his shit list right now.

"What the hell is this about?" He piped up as soon as they were near, feeling the hand on his shoulder push roughly to make him sit on the pew.

The man's mumbling fell to silence at the question, and he slowly lowered his hands before turning to face the captive.

"Ah, Mr. McCullum. I was told you might be eager for answers." He replied coolly, his gaunt, aged face emphasized by the overhead lighting and making him look almost skeletal in appearance, along with combed-back grey hair. This wasn't the same banker who started this whole thing, this was their leader? Or at least a higher up, he could suppose.

"I'm eager for you bastards to let me go before I kill you for what you've done!" He snapped, his scowl only deepening at the quirked brow and the slightly amused smirk on the robed man's face.

"Oh? I thought Priwen didn't kill humans?"

"𝑰 bloody do when they murder one of my Captains and kidnap me!" He snarled, attempting to get up and try to do just that. Of course he barely even made it out of the seat before a hand shoved him back down into the seat. The cultist chuckled and shook his head at the behavior.

"Although I will admit things did not go as smoothly as I had hoped... It was still a necessary step. All things happen for a reason- it is divine will that your soldier died and you be brought here. You should be grateful it was not you in his position! Not that she would let that happen, of course."

And there it was. The start of the crazy babbling. Geoffrey would roll his eyes out of their bloody sockets if it meant being spared having to deal with this man's ideals.

"What the hell are you talking about? What 'she', and what sort of insane cult garbage is this now?"

"It is the 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩, Mr. McCullum! Not garbage... It is the future! The key to eternity! The-"

"It's a fucking cult." Geoffrey spat irritably. "Just tell me what you want so I don't have to listen to this drivel. I can guarantee I won't buy whatever you're sellin'."

"Hmh. Very well... Simply put we are the heralds to the new age. We worship the true Gods of this land, the ones borne of blood and by blood! They walk among us in our dreams and our bodies at night. We worship our superiors and recognize their children as the ones meant to rule over simple, mortal mankind."

"So you worship leeches because... What, they're better than you? Hell that's not a very high bar to set, is it? I could name a dozen or more better than you."

The leader's brow twitched in annoyance, and with a pointed look to Geoffrey's guards, he received a swift fist to the side of his face. "Agh! Bastard!" he swore, placing a hand over the spot and sitting back up proper in his seat.

"We worship the Gods and Goddesses of blood, the mothers and fathers of Ekons- the ones you so demeaningly call leeches." He sneered, clearly hating the very notion of insulting Vampires.

Mothers and fathers to Ekons? What in the hell was he talking about? Geoffrey could only assume older vampires, but beings made of blood? There was no record of it in Priwen's books, and it certainly sounded like crazy cult babble, but the man clearly knew about leeches, clearly did some research to plan all of this... So what the hell did he mean by that?

"Then why am I here? Why not just kill me if you want the bloodsuckers to take over? Is it to gloat? Because I'll tell you right now you're wasting yer bloody time on that front. I couldn't care less about you or this stupid dog and pony show you've set up to fool some idiots into following you."

"Because, Mr. McCullum, the great one I speak to, the one in my dreams, Morgana... She called for you by name."

Well, that sent a wave of cold through him... He looked up at the man in a glare of suspicion before his eyes wandered to the statue behind him. it hadn't moved, but he had a bad feeling about the figure it depicted.

"Believe me I was as skeptical as you appear to be. After all, why would she call for you when I've been so terribly devout? But then I realized she wanted you dead! You are my test, Mr. McCullum. To bring you here so you can bleed out at her feet. She wanted me to prove my loyalty by removing the loudest, more irritating thorn in the side of her children!" He explained almost cheerfully, clearly proud of his 'aha!' moment.

Something about this wasn't adding up, however. Geoffrey couldn't quite place it, but it just... didn't make sense to him. "Why patch me up then? Why not kill me when you brought me in? You've had plenty of time to do it."

"You're rather perceptive, you know that? You're right, it would be far simpler to have killed you when you were first brought in bleeding and delirious... But Morgana, daughter of the Red Queen, insists on this being 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. As almighty and powerful as she is she can be rather fickle at times. For as much as it pains me to hold my blade and let you breathe another day I must listen to the almighty. Your time will come, Mr. McCullum, make no mistake... It will just take a bit longer to set things up."

Red Queen... Creatures born of blood... Why did this all sound familiar? He knows Priwen had no records on it, and Lord knows the Brotherhood wouldn't tell them anything. Hell, the report he got back on Swansea's interrogation was next to nothing, and that man looked like he would have crumpled at even the smallest threat! So where was it? Secondhand information on Reid perhaps? He might know something more, but it wasn't like Geoffrey was in a position to call him up and ask.

"Then let's hope it's soon. I wouldn't want to listen to your grating voice any more than I already have." Geoffrey snarked, hearing a heavy, frustrated sigh from the man in turn.

"Yes, and I'd like to be rid of you as soon as possible. Now take him back to his cell. Have your fun but don't hurt him too much, boys. Lady Morgana wants entertainment, not a corpse." He pointed out, offering a fake, polite smile before bowing his head slightly and taking his leave.

The men were quick to hoise Geoffrey back up to his feet to take him back to his cell for the night.

Burdened with these troubling thoughts and the knowledge of some form of impending doom things were not looking great for the hunter, who was oddly quiet as he worked on formulating a plan of escape, as well as what that loon meant with all that talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((So I was thinking- Myydrin goes by a bunch of names, right? including Merlin. He seems to like intervening and making champions to fight the Red Queen who seems a bit out of touch with things to begin with. It's like he's taking care of a senile, murderous old lady. So my idea is what if Myyrdin isn't the only direct child to the Red Queen? And since he's Merlin then why not a Morgana? A sort of immortal antagonist to Myydrin who gets fed up with his meddling and wants to help bring about destruction or a new age of vampires instead. A sister who maybe hates that Myydrin seems to be the favorite child despite going behind their mother's back to try and stop her. Someone who maybe makes champions of her own to combat and/or kill Myyrdin's champions to try and bring about destruction. That's the idea I'm going with here anyhow. I haven't come up with a crazy name for her yet so i'm just using Morgana for now since they can go by many names.))


	6. Priwen Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan gets to meet the rest of Geoffrey's Captains and an argument ensues about what to do with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I haven't really touched on it much but in this timeline, Edgar is a vampire and Elizabeth killed herself despite Jonathan's pleas. Just so you're all made aware!

The walk back to Priwen's current Headquarters was equal parts uncomfortable as it was tense. Nary a word was spoken from Captain Wesley, and only uncertain murmurs came from his men as they escorted him with guns trained at his back.

For the most part, they were agreeable considering Jonathan's undead condition, but he figured that would likely change as they approached the theater. Indeed the guards that greeted them were quick to raise their weapons at the sight of their captive, to which the Captain boldly stood between them and their target.

"Sir? What are you doing bringing a leech back here?"

"He's here for questioning, and because I can't get any information out of a pile of ash. Now stand down and let the others know I've returned." When they spared only a brief, hesitant glance between one another Wesley spoke again with an agitated tone. "That's an 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, recruit."

That seemed to do the trick, as one scurried back inside and the other lowered his weapon to let them pass. Things seemed fine until Jonathan reached the threshold and felt that strange barrier that prevented him from moving on. The pause drew Captain Wesley's attention, and for a moment he had a pleased smirk that Jonathan wasn't allowed in, but seeing as how he really needed the doctor he gestured for him to follow. "Come in, Doctor Reid... And stick close. If you step a toe out of line there'll be more than a few steaks in your heart for it."

The warning was unnecessary, but Jonathan nodded in agreement all the same as he stepped into the theater's lobby. "Naturally... I doubt anyone would be mad enough to kick a hornet's nest whilst their hand is inside it, or ever at all if they're smart... So long as I'm not attacked you won't have any problems from me, Captain."

A simple grunt of acknowledgment and they move into the main room where it had been thoroughly transformed from a place of entertainment to a hub of hunter activity. Papers, guns, powders, and chemicals being mixed into weapons against his kind.

The mindless hum of noise and activity froze, however, when they entered. Suddenly all eyes were on him and Jonathan could practically feel the heat from their angry glares like sunlight itself. A hand grabbed the back of his coat collar and pushed him forward when he paused; his escorts ensuring he didn't dawdle as they made their way to the stage and likely down to the basement. Jonathan 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 didn't like the idea of going down there, not after finding Edgar in such a sorry state.

"What the blue blazes is this, Jacob!? What do you think yer doing bringing a fucking 𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒉 in here!? We've got enough bloody problems as is!" A tall, brutish man exclaimed as he shoved past some of the recruits. He was nearly as tall as himself or Geoffrey, and perhaps twice as wide. A cleft palate and a mean looking hooked scar along his left cheek made this hunter certainly look formidable enough. Jonathan could only raise his brows in surprise as Wesley ever so calmly brushed past him, and he was shoved along to follow suit.

The man did not stop, however, and drew his pistol on him. "Wesley! Don't fucking ignore me you prat!"

An annoyed sigh escaped the captain, who stopped to face the large man. "Captain Davenport I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot our best lead right now. It's been a 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 long night and I really don't have the patience. I'll explain 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 I secure our prisoner." He holds his ground well, and Jonathan could only glance with uncertainty between the two.

"Where is Captain Becker?" Wesley finally asked after the tense moment.

"In the basement looking over the letter."

"Good. Follow me then, and you'll get your answers." He turned his back to him and continued to lead the way to the stage's side door.

Captain Davenport took a quick and surly look around the room as he holstered his pistol. "What're you ladies lookin' at!? Get back to work! Sun's almost up already!" He snarled, lumbering after the group.

Down at the bottom of the stairs, they were met with another guard, as well as a woman sitting at a table reading over a letter. She lifted her gaze at the movement and offered a smile that quickly melted into a rather nasty look. She didn't openly threaten to shoot anyone on sight at least, but her hand had very quickly set down the letter and rested on the crossbow resting on the table and already pre-aimed at the door.

"Katherine." Wesley cooly greeted.

"Jacob. Do you care to explain what this is?" She asked, her German accent distinct and probably not very welcome in the current wartime climate. Nobody seemed phased by it, or the fact that the final captain was so clearly a woman.

"Doctor Reid-"

"That fucking leech wot kicked the shit out of Geoffrey?" Davenport interrupted, brushing past his escorts and grabbing the back of Jonathan's coat collar, earning and annoyed 'tsk' from the Doctor who certainly did 𝐧𝐨𝐭 appreciate being manhandled like this.

"Yes. Do you want my report or are you just going to interrupt me again, 𝑯𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅?" Wesley asked, clearly becoming short with the man's actions as well. Davenport scowled in response and kept quiet as he shooed off the lower ranked hunters with a wave.

"Reid here was snooping around the crime scene while we were there. I figured he could help us track down our fearless leader."

"You must be joking." Katherine deadpanned, shaking her head as a frown formed. "This is a ridiculous notion. You know we do not collaborate with such monsters!"

"We've worked with the bobbies before..." Davenport commented snidely, earning an eye roll from Katherine.

"Believe me, Katherine, I am in no joking mood. Finn was found dead at the house."

"What!?" Came the collective question from the other two, with an added "Bloody hell..." from Howard.

"Vampires?" the woman guessed, sending a pointed look Jonathan's way.

"Bullet. Which was why it took me so long to find anything. Lots of crazy scribbles on the wall, lots of blood, but no leeches."

"It's Latin." Jonathan piped up, and once again all eyes were on him, feeling heavy.

"The words on the wall... They were in Latin. Something about welcoming the night and worship. It's... Not very good, I'm afraid. It seemed very occult. And the crosses were fake, hollowed and with more of that insane writing."

Wesley shared a look between his fellow hunters. A silent understanding that maybe Jonathan 𝐰𝐚𝐬 useful to them, though it didn't mean they were fully convinced.

"Crosses? Most people do not have more than one or two... A trap then?" Captain Becker seemed quite perceptive, more so than the other two. Captain Wesley seemed a fine leader with a level head and a willingness to compromise that McCullum yet seemed to lack, and Davenport was no doubt the muscle. Likely the type to fit right at home with the Wet Boot Boys.

Wesley nodded at her assumption. "The tea served there was spiked with something, and there was a struggle. Finn managed to get one before he got shot, and another I think is safe to say McCullum nicked before getting dragged off Lord knows where." He explained, rubbing at tired eyes. "If there was more time I'd have more answers, but for now we need Doctor Reid's special skills to find out where they took McCullum. Do I have your trust to continue with this?"

Katherine looked uncertain, and Howard was clearly not in agreement as he shoved Reid forward into the more open part of the room and drew his pistol on him again.

"Like hell! He's a leech, Jacob, you know how they lie! He was probably there to pick you off as well!"

"Reid 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 McCullum, you oaf!" Wesley protested in exasperation.

"Yeah, to embarrass us and show he could do what he wants! Well he 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭! I ain't gonna trust him just because he fooled you by showing an ounce of kindness!"

"An ounce!?" Jonathan interjected, unable to help himself with how the man was trying to rile everyone up. He took a breath, however, and lowered his voice to normal before continuing. "Geoffrey McCullum is perhaps the most trying man I've ever dealt with. To say it was an ounce of kindness to spare him after trying to 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 me with misinformation and assumptions is a bloody understatement! "

"You watch your tone, Lee-"

"No, Howard Davenport, you watch 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 tone! I came here 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 to help the very group that beat a man to death in this very basement! A man I hold in high regards despite his misdeeds! I am trying to help you find the man who tried to kill me because believe it or not I care about the bastard! London needs Priwen- as loathe as I am to admit that, and 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 you need McCullum to keep everyone in line! So if you're going to shoot me for doing 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 bloody job for you then I wish you the best of luck in your hunt."

The outburst was enough to shock the three of them into a dumbfounded silence, and as Reid took his deep breath to recompose it was Captain Becker who first spoke, looking to Wesley with an affirmed nod. "Very well, Jacob. I trust your judgment. You are the expert in these matters, after all."

"Now wait just a second! Kat!" Howard called, but the woman ignored him as she walked behind him and up for the stairs.

Wesley poorly contained his satisfied smirk as she left, folding his arms across his chest and giving Davenport a raised brow. "Well, Captain? It's two against one. Majority vote."

"You can't just expect the others to listen!"

"If they respect the order of things and have faith in their commanding officers then yes. Yes, I can. Think of him as a prisoner if it makes you feel better, but until he makes a move against us or Geoffrey is found then you don't harm him. Understood?"

A begrudging grumble of acknowledgment and the man slowly holsters his weapon, glaring between Reid and his fellow hunter. "I'll be watching, though, Wesley. If this ends badly it's on 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

"I'm aware, old friend. If I didn't think it was necessary I would have just shot him myself."

The Captain then gestured to the door behind Reid. "You'll need to be locked away for the day, Doctor, for everyone's safety. You understand."

"Of course, Captain Wesley. I'd hate to awaken with a steak in my heart." A grim joke that nobody smiled at knowing how likely that outcome was down here.

Davenport shook his head with a scowl and followed behind just in case, watching as Wesley led him to the far back room where Edgar had been found. Not exactly Jonathan's ideal spot, but he supposed it was better than the steak to the heart.

"Come sundown we'll head back to see what all we might have missed, assuming the police haven't scrubbed the area."

"Are you kiddin'? Those sods couldn't scrub a plate clean! Thought you can't tell by lookin' at the fat bastards." Davenport assured in his own tactless way.

"I can only imagine the nightmare he is at social engagements." Jonathan murmured, earning a tired, airy snort from Wesley who waited by the door. "Like you wouldn't believe. Until tonight, Doctor."

Shutting the door there was an audible clicking of the lock in the door, and the Captains' departure. It wouldn't be long before new footsteps approached, however, as guards were set up outside of the exits just in case Reid should try anything funny.

Well at least being down here he was safe from the sunlight... Finding a comfortable spot Reid did his best to get some sleep while it was still available.

That was easier said than done, however, as the night's event replayed in his increasingly troubled mind. Just where was Geoffrey? Who would take him, and why? Time was not on their side, and tomorrow night they would need to move fast if they wanted to find him before something terrible happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on a drawing of Geoffrey's Captains mainly because I realized how I've yet to properly describe any of them, plus the mood just sorta hit me since in my mind they're like a pretty close-knit family. A bunch of people who drive each other crazy but also have plenty of good times. Also also! With someone as driven as Geoffrey, I feel like he'd be pretty open to allowing women into Priwen if they know the danger. So long as they show the skill and/or talent, drive, and faith then why not?


	7. The Arena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey's experience and skills as a hunter are put to the test for the entertainment of a bunch of robed wackos and things take a dark turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past couple of chapters have been a lot of exposition and talking, but this one should be mostly action! The gears are starting to turn on both fronts and it shouldn't be more than a chapter or two before things come together. Also bear in mind most of this is probably wayyy off from the Vampyr lore. Mainly Morgana, who makes an appearance.

Geoffrey had never yearned for the dead silence more than he had in his time here. How much time that was he could not say. No windows and dimly lit stone halls made for a poor clock, and even in his uncomfortable metal chair he found himself dozing off on occasion. He was understandably exhausted from the recent ordeals, and any moment alone was a precious one.

Normally when things were this quiet it meant something bad was about to happen, or he was simply left alone with his rarely pleasant thoughts.

But here it meant his tormenters were busy doing God only knows what. Throwing stones at each other, probably... Maybe sacrificing a goat or something equally stupid or fucked up. Geoffrey didn't much care so long as they left him the hell alone.

But of course he wasn't so lucky. Hearing the heavy iron door unlock and creak open he groaned and opened his eyes to give a steady glare to the men he'd come to know as Johnson and Davis. He didn't know much about them beyond how hard they could punch or slice up a man shackled to a chair, but he learned enough to hate them for it. Davis, the more weasely of the two who shot him during his attempted escape grinned as usual at his approach. Geoffrey wanted nothing more than to beat that smile off his face.

"What is it today" Another lecture? Another beating? You bastards can't break me, you're just wasting your time."

Johnson hung back and ignored him, as usual. Despite his choice to quietly take up the background most times, he was the one to really fear had Geoffrey not already faced off against the unholy beasts that were Vampires. That knife he kept in his hands to whittle random things was not just for show, and Geoffrey would likely have the scars to prove it once they all healed.

Davis, on the other hand, just shook his head as he unlocked Geoffrey's restraints. "Not this time, Irish! Tonight's supposed to be somethin' special from what I gathered." He answered rather vaguely, grabbing Geoffrey's upper arm to guide him up as his other hand drew a pistol. Geoffrey had gotten remarkably better than when he first arrived despite the cuts and bruises. They had followed their orders of not damaging him too much, apparently, and the bullet wounds he took coming here were more manageable. Still felt god awful, but he could at least limp around mostly unassisted.

And so he did as Johnson put the cuffs on him and led the way down the hall, turning the opposite direction towards a spiral staircase leading downwards.

"You two... Really are something else." Geoffrey scoffs finally as they make their way to the lower part of the castle. The air became far cooler and he could guess they were headed underground.

 

When there was no response he continued to antagonize. "I could guess perhaps you two are soldiers, or 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦. Run away from the frontlines to act as some dogs for these crazed vampire worshipers. I'm sure your families are real proud of you both."

"Shut your mouth!" Davis snapped, pressing the barrel of the gun to Geoffrey's temple in warning. "You don't know nothing about us, Irish!"

"I know you're willing to sell your souls for a bit of promised money." he snapped back, knowing full well he wouldn't be shot now. "Are you trying to bribe us?" Johnson piped up, though none of them slowed their pace as they made it to the floor.

"Of course not! Even if I had the money I wouldn't pay you jackals to lick the mud off of a boot."

The comment earned an unappreciative grumble from Johnson, and Davis drew the hammer back on his gun.

"Do you 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 think they're going to pay you? These lunatics?"

"I think they'll kill you, which at this point is enough for me!" Davis snapped as they made their way through some large double doors and into a large round room locked behind a gate. Geoffrey slowed at the sight of it, only to be pushed forward by Davis.

It was an arena, underneath a castle?? Just who designed this place? It would remain unanswered, and very low on his list of important questions as they approached the gate guarded by two robed figures.

"Welcome." They greeted with unsettling smiles on their faces, opening the gate for Davis to push him through. He resisted then, more than he had in the past couple of days. He tried to dig his heels in as best he could, not at all liking the sight of the bones or how red the dirt seemed inside the arena... But it was all for naught. Davis was insistent in walking him inside, and despite being smaller and thinner than Geoffrey he didn't have serious injuries or malnutrition playing against him.

"Welcome! My brothers and sisters of the night, Welcome!" A loud and familiar voice spoke from the seating above the Arena's tall walls. That leader in red robes was standing up tall along the wall addressing his followers that dotted around the arena's seating. Geoffrey could count a few dozen as he looked around, and he could only guess as to who was human and who wasn't.

"It is with the greatest honor that I call you here tonight! Our goddess, our almighty, has come to me in my dreams, spoken with me about this 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 I bring before you!" The crowd was alive with excited murmurs, both enthralled by their leader and disgusted with Geoffrey. it was strange to have such attention on him. Negativity, sure! Most people saw Priwen as crazed fanatics themselves hunting make-believe monsters... But so many believers to be 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 him, and not leeches themselves? It was like some bizarre fever dream. Hell, this whole situation seemed bizarre and fucked up!

Davis worked on unlocking his cuffs as their leader continued.

"I implore you, do not cast your stones! Do not hate this man for his crimes! He is an ignorant fool! He kills that which he does not understand! He deserves our pity, not our scorn!" His words were as empty as his smile, and it sparked a fire of hatred in Geoffrey's heart for it all. These people... It really made his rule of 'Priwen doesn't kill humans' incredibly difficult to follow. If he ever got out of this he'd need to reassess Priwen's laws.

"Pig's arse I'm ignorant! I know full well the kind of beasts I hunt, the kind of creatures that would slaughter those they once called family! The kind to murder children for their own entertainment! You're part of the problem plaguing London if you think worshipping 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 is the right thing!" He snarled, earning a swing from Davis.

Except for this time Geoffrey wasn't tied down to anything, and he saw the punch coming a mile away. He leaned away to avoid the fist and snatched his wrist up in a firm grip. His glare was turned to Davis then, ready to pummel the little rat's face in until he noticed the pistol aimed at his gut. His patience was wearing thin, but a heavy metal groan seemed to break the tension of Geoffrey finally saying 'fuck it' and accepting the bullet to kill the bastard.

On the far side another gate opened, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes stared them down hungrily. Geoffrey let go of Davis then, already recognizing the threat for what it was and shuffling back towards the gate they came in from.

"Think what you will, Mr. McCullum, but in the end it will be their kind to rule this world, just as it was meant to be. Mankind was meant to be ruled, to worship those beyond mortality! Face your demise, Geoffrey McCullum, and be thankful your life will finally have meaning in its sacrifice."

He was unarmed, wounded, and without any of the powders, crosses, or essential tools to fight one of those wolfish beasts. His coat and his weapons had been stripped from him long ago, and with no help coming he was royally fucked unless he could get out.

Davis finally seemed to put the pieces together as the furry monster stepped out from its shadowy cage, snarling at them. "Wh-what the hell is that!?" He asked as he stepped back, opening fire when the monster began to charge him. Geoffrey wanted to tell him it's what they were working for, but he didn't have the time as he reached the gate and found it (unsurprisingly) locked. Johnson and the robed men waited calmly on the other side, and Geoffrey spun back around to face the beast clawing at a screaming Davis.

"J-Joe! Joe HELP! C'MON! WHAT'RE YOU DOIN' JUST STANDING THERE!?" He cried out between screams, on his stomach and reaching desperately for his partner in crime. Johnson seemed just as unperturbed as when they tortured Geoffrey, lighting up a cigarette to smoke and enjoy the show. "Nothin' personal, Carl! Just business."

"You people are 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒆!" Geoffrey hissed, knowing he didn't have long before he was next. He looked around for something- 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 to give him an edge here, but only found bones from the former victims.

He scrambled over to a pile, pulling free a femur just in time for the beast to grow bored of the now silent and still Davis, tearing one last strip of flesh from his back to scarf down before facing Geoffrey. A blunt weapon wasn't going to do much beyond pissing it off, but it was better than nothing.

"Come on then!" He taunted with a step forward, more willing to die a quick death of his own choosing than to be stalked like some prey.

The beast snarled as though it understood, and lunged itself at the man and shadow lunged to close the distance with unbelievable speed only vampires could achieve. Had Geoffrey not been expecting such a trick he would have surely fallen immediately to the beast's jaws. Instead, he managed to lodge the femur in the thing's mouth as it tried to clamp down on his throat, and pushed to keep it at bay for the split second he needed to sock it right in the eye with his free hand.

It was the only hit he'd get before large claws swept up under his arm and raked across his chest, knocking him back with a pained yell and a gasp of air at the pain. "Agh!!" The creature took the moment to dislodge the femur, licking the roof of its mouth to rid itself of the strange feeling of having something shoved in its teeth that didn't immediately tear.

It was then on Geoffrey with murderous intent, ready to shred and eat him as easily as all the others... But unlike the others Geoffrey was a stubborn bastard, and the beast had left plenty of bones behind for him to use. It was all he 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 use right now, grasping a rip poking at his side and stabbing into the beast's arm, on the inner part of the joint. It howled in pain and focused instead on pulling the bone out. It gave Geoffrey enough time to crawl out from under it and look for Davis's body. He needed that gun. Needed to put the monster down for good- but it was so damned 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭. Already it was trying to stand upright and face him down again and McCullum knew he wouldn't get time to grab the gun just yet.

It was beyond stupid, but with limited options Geoffrey threw himself onto the back of the beast, sliding an arm around its thick neck and holding it tight to try and choke the air out of it. Unlike most monsters, these things were more feral and far less cunning than Ekons or Vulkoids, but far more ferocious than Skals. It reared back with a snarl, lifting Geoffrey off his feet as it tried to reach back and gore him with its long claws. He took the scratches it left without complaint, only with surging adrenaline and that will to survive did he hang on and endure the pain this fight was causing him.

"It's futile to struggle, Mr. McCullum! Accept your fate and be free from the burden of life!" The robed man jeered from the safety of the crowd, and Geoffrey felt agitated by it despite the direness of the situation. He wanted nothing more than to use one of those bullets in Davis's gun for him, but he'd need them all for this beast.

Thankfully its wild flailing had brought Geoffrey close enough to willingly let go and roll to his knees, wincing at the pain from the bullet wound now reopened but diving for the pistol gripped in Davis's dead hand.

He managed to snag it at the same time the monster snagged him by the ankle with its teeth dragging him away from the body and pulling a wail from Geoffrey. He wanted to grab his leg to mitigate the pain, but the gun was more important. Checking the chambers he counted three left and kicked the beast's head with his free foot as he cocked the gun. Its back was mostly to him, dragging him as it did, and he needed it to let him go to get a clear shot.

It did, thankfully, but not before flicking hard to fling him into the wall with great force. His vision swam after his head cracked against the bricks, and his grip had loosened on the gun enough to drop it in his concussed state. He wanted to throw up- that thing really hit him hard against the wall just then... But he couldn't just yet. He grasped at the gun weakly yelping in pain as a sharp set of teeth sunk into his shoulder and began to feed on him. His vision was dark, barely there, but he'd be damned if he gave up now. Lifting his hand he pressed the gun into the beast's furry chest and fired all three rounds.

The pressure was gone immediately, and now it was the monster that wailed in pain, falling back and clawing at the bullets it wouldn't be able to get out. It lied still then, and though Geoffrey wanted to check and see if he actually killed the damn thing he was in no state to.

"What- No! No this is not at all what was to happen! You were supposed to DIE to that beautiful creature, not kill it!" The man roared, the crowd sounding shocked and offended by Geoffrey's escape from death... At least from that beast. He couldn't help the tired, dazed smile that graced his face then, chuckling at the man's words despite the wave of pain it brought on. "Should've... sh..."

He was losing consciousness, and he knew there was a fat chance he'd wake up again, but he had to fight it if only for one last 'fuck you' to these bastards. "Should've done your research more!" He forced his eyes open more, even if it was hard. "Priwen will 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 prevail, you crazy, dumb bastard." He explained, letting go of the gun and waiting to bleed out.

It wasn't the ideal spot or the best circumstances... Hell, he'd have liked to say goodbye or leave a note or 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 first, but beggars can't be choosers. At least he got to go out fighting.

At least... That's what he would have 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥. Unfortunately, it seemed fate had a crueler path in mind for him.

"Now, children, let's not fight..." An ethereal voice called out. A dark, sinister female voice that gave Geoffrey shivers at the sound. His eyes opened further, the possibility of another fight forcing his heart to pump faster, adrenaline waking him up despite how close he was to death.

Looking around he could not find the source of the voice at first but noticed the robed figures now bowed low, groveling over something in the arena that surged up from the piles of bones and Davis's body. It was blood... Rising to form the figure of a woman, horned and floating and nothing at all like what Geoffrey's ever seen before. His eyes widened in shock at the sight, and as she seemed to fully materialize and turn to a darker shade of red she smiled at him, her teeth and mouth just as red as everything else.

"What... The hell are you?" He asked, his voice a mere whisper to himself.

"I go by many names, Hunter, but you may call me Morgana." That diety they worshipped? That made no sense... That... This shouldn't be real! At least he didn't 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 it to be real. How was he supposed to fight something made of blood? 'You aren't' her voice answered in his mind.

She was in front of him then. Hovering over and reaching down for his neck to lift him up rather than touch her bloody feet to the Earth. She was terrifying and unnaturally calm. Hell, she was unnatural to begin with, but this was beyond ominous. He wished he had left a bullet for himself at that moment. If he knew this was going to happen he would have ended it then and there. He grabbed at her wrist, surprisingly sturdy for being pure blood.

"Be at peace, my champion. You've proven yourself quite strong for a mortal! I must say I'm... Not terribly impressed, but entertained nonetheless." She grinned, ignoring his feeble attempt to escape from her grasp. "I'm sure you'll have many questions, and so, 𝒔𝒐 much anger, but that's what I'm counting on."

"My lady...?" The cult's leader asked, not liking her words one bit. Her champion? The man was a 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓! A killer! He wouldn't follow her if she was the last thing in the universe! "Surely you can't..." He started to protest, too scared to raise his voice or demand her to reconsider.

It was too late anyhow, and the man watched in horror and envy as Morgana planted a kiss on the dying hunter's lips, forcing blood past them to grant him immortality the Cultist could only dream of.

McCullum, however, was living a nightmare in the ordeal. He didn't have the strength to fight his way out of a wet paper bag, let alone a bloody wraith! Or whatever this Morgana was! He could only gag and choke on the blood that entered his system, feeling his body convulse as if trying to fight it with all he could.

But ultimately he would fail, and his eyes would shut on the dark, nightmarish arena as his heartbeat slowed, dying alone, confused, and afraid. He'd have preferred the bullet or even the wolfish beast than this damnation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO originally I was going to have them find Geoffrey just straight up dead, or have Reid save him last minute before something crazy like this happened. But I ended up going with this route to put another strain on Reid and McCullum's relationship for them to overcome/a common enemy they could both hate and get closer trying to take down. The enemy of my enemy sort of ordeal. Let me know what you think!


	8. Taking a Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOw I just realized when I started typing this that I reused a last name like a DUMMY. So Becker is the woman's name, Davis is now the last name of the jerk who got torn to shreds int he arena. This chapter doesn't have too much going for it either as a fair warning, just trying to get Reid and the other caught up.

The return to the manor and the crime scene inside was informative but trying. Although Reid had found receipts of payment to the bank for some questionably large property he had to work around Davenport hovering around him like an angry shadow the entire time. When he had tried to confront the others about it he'd been met with Wesley's contempt over the complaint, and an annoyed 'tsk!' from Becker as they continued their own searches of the premise. It was clear any niceties to their charge was only out of necessity. None of them truly liked working with a Vampire, and Reid surmised they each had good reason for that deep-seated hatred.

Despite how much longer their search had been dragged out by the distrust they had their information. A receipt on a recent property purchase from the government from a few months ago. Reid had found it hiding under one of the chairs in the living room. He guessed maybe it had been moved by the wind after the door had been left hanging open from the previous night.

"I recognize this name." Katherine spoke up after looking over the paper passed around. "It's quite the drive, but if we hurry..."

"You're just assuming that's where they've gone?" Wesley scoffed, shaking his head. "The man's rich and we're in wartime. He could have bought that property as an investment."

"Although it's possible, I doubt anyone with that kind of money would leave London and their home like this after such a purchase, unless this man was an unfortunate bystander."

Reid nodded at her keen observation. "Whichever it is all signs point there. I doubt we'll find much more solid evidence here, and unless your scouts have found anything..."

"Don't play coy, leech." Warned Katherine with an indignant huff.

"Then it looks like that's where your leader likely resides."

"And you expect us to all pack up and rush out, leaving you to your devices?"

"Ideally you'd leave me to my rounds as a medical professional trying to help save sick and injured citizens, yes. In this case I'm going, with or without you."

"Like hell! No way we're lettin' you go off on your own." Davenport protested, getting a nod from Katherine and even Wesley stepped forward as if to try and snag Reid should he run for it. It was strange to see an unusual trio band together with such quick conviction, especially seeing how they grated on each other's nerves. "We aren't going to give you the change to decide Geoffrey's fate twice, Reid." The tone Wesley used was cold and even more serious than he'd usually been so far.

"Then we'll go to Pembroke." Reid offered with a sigh. They couldn't rightly stop him if he wanted to leave, but he really didn't want to press an argument. "There's a chance we'll need an ambulance and I'll need to stop for supplies and to speak with an associate."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The conversation with Edgar had not been the easiest. Edgar was concerned for the most part, and rightfully so. To have his friend and colleague under the watchful glares of Priwen's top brass was easily mistaken for him being under duress, to which Reid had to convince was not the case and that he was willingly searching for Geoffrey McCullum... That information didn't make things much better, nor did his request to borrow their only ambulance go over well.

Still, Edgar eventually conceded both to Jonathan's insisting that he was perfectly alright and that they needed to borrow the ambulance for a day or two. London was still in something of an epidemic even if it wasn't of a vampiric nature anymore. He promised several nights of undivided attention to the hospital upon his return before Swansea spoke to Milton in handing over the keys.

From there it was a long drive of heavy silence. Davenport drove as Wesley sat passenger and Becker watched him like a hawk. He sat in the back staring at the wall but focused on nothing as his mind raced with possible scenarios on where this all might lead. Most were unfortunate and dark, some hopeful beyond what Reid knew to be real, and some just plain ludicrous. He was only pulled from his thoughts as Wesley spoke some time later.

"It'll be daylight by the time we arrive." He stated, a fact that made Reid's heart sink. Part of him knew it when he insisted on going with them tonight, but thankfully there were blankets stored in here among the medical supplies. So long as he stayed in the car he'd be fine from the sun... Though the company he currently kept was another beast entirely. "So when we 𝘥𝘰" he continued, looking between the other three. "Kat and I will scout the premise. Can I trust you not to kill the doctor while we do, Howard?"

"You know you can!" Davenport snapped, sneering at Wesley and his pointed look. "I might hate the bloodsuckers but I'll follow an order if its sensible enough... Fer as sensible as any of this is anymore." He might have grumbled the last part, but it was still perfectly heard by all as was likely intended. "I get that he's useful, though I still say we should've gone back to get a medic or two."

That settled into idle bickering between the two but Reid quickly tuned it out, instead taking the time to set up the blankets that would shield him from the sun's harmful rays as much as they could. This situation was far from ideal, but between burning to a crisp and trusting vampire hunters not to kill him in his sleep? The sun might not necessarily kill him, but these people might not either, if only because of his talents as a physician and a certain desperation that came from the passage of time.

He needed the distraction from it, and opened that mental link between himself and those he'd turned. Edgar was first, and unsurprisingly worried. Torn between his work and the news Reid had presented him with he did little to ease the taller man's mind from it. Instead he moved on to Sean Hampton, whose mind was far more serene as he tended to the people of the East End. Reid did not share any of the news with him, electing instead just to find his peace in Sean's thoughts as he worked. This seemed to do the trick as it filled up the rest of the ride out there, and soon enough Reid found the car stopped and the hunters readying their weapons.

"Unless you enjoy burning, Doctor, I suggest you cover up." Wesley warned as he raised the bandana up around his face. Katherine was already waiting patiently and Davenport just glared in annoyance from the driver's seat. At least they had the decency to wait for him to pull himself back to reality. With a nod he did so, and as he heard the doors open and shut for them to leave he realized two things: one being how tired he felt after these past few days, especially during the daylight. And the other being that if someone walked in right now he'd look like a cadaver lying in the back of an ambulance as he was. It would be like something out of a Penny Dreadful! Dead body coming to life to drain the living of blood... It wasn't the first time Reid felt the irony of his situation and undoubtedly it wouldn't be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a shorter chapter. I realized after writing the last one that it was meant to be broken up into two so I skimmed a bit on this one because time-wise they weren't synced up properly. Next chapter should have more.


	9. Reunion

Reid had 𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 managed to relax enough to drift off when the back doors opened and s grim-faced Wesley lifted the blankets to reveal the doctor, who looked at him quizzically. He glanced to Davenport and with a jerk of his head signaled them to follow.

"It doesn't look good." He warned as they made their way across the dirt road and up a hill overlooking the entrance to the castle. It was certainly run down, but nothing like the one Elizabeth had been hiding in. There were clearly signs of life here. Some cars parked on the grounds, fresh prints from shoes of various sizes. The cultists had even apparently started clearing out the dead vines and sticks from the walls in an attempt to spruce the place up a bit. Likely they intended this to be a long-term place to stay. For what purpose? Reid could only guess.

They met Becker at the top, who had been reassembling her crossbow. "They've moved inside." She commented, looking to Wesley who nodded and turned to the other two. "We counted eighteen people moving into the castle, though we couldn't spot their faces behind the cloaks. They're human enough, though, so we can't just shoot anyone we see."

Reid snorted softly at that, recalling just how many times Priwen's soldiers attacked him without even giving their warnings before. He decided it best to keep his mouth shut, however, and listen to the plan.

"There's a hidden entrance towards the back of the grounds where Howard and I will enter through. Doctor Reid I'll need you and Katherine to use the front gates. If it's like we think then you shouldn't have to worry about any guards until you get inside."

"You don't trust me to go alone?"

"No, but that's not why Kat is escorting you, if that's what you're implying. You can't enter without an invitation, even if these people are such fans of leeches as their writing implies. That and should things go bad I can trust her to handle things accordingly." When Reid didn't argue further Wesley gave a nod and continued. "We don't fully know what to expect and we won't have any other allies in this. Be 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍. We don't need to lost anyone else tonight."

And with that he gestured for Davenport to follow him. The larger man wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and mouth before clasping Kat on the shoulder with a concerned look. "Stay safe, K. Don't let this leech drop your guard." He warned, and the woman rolled her eyes at it. "Just don't go charging in like some idiot and let me worry about myself." Brushing the hand off of her shoulder she began to head for the large double doors leading inside.

Reid followed suit, drawing his sword from under his coat as they approached. "Was there anything else you found?" He asked in a voice just above a whisper. "Did you find Geoffrey?"

"There was not much opportunity. Mostly we used the back entrance and what we found was not pleasant... But no, the commander was not there." She explained, pressing on the large door to force it open and slip inside. Reid would have 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 to follow her, but that infernal barrier prevented him from doing much beyond trying to get a peek at what was happening.

"Miss Becker?" He questioned, and soon the woman reappeared pressing a finger to her lips. "Come in, Doctor, but be 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵. They're close."

With permission finally given he stepped through the threshold and glanced around. Seeing nothing but the dimly lit braziers he took a moment to focus and heighten his senses. He could see a mass of red hearts ahead of them through the walls. a congregation of sorts, with most shining a loud, vibrant scarlet. At the lead, however, there were three dimmer than the rest. Slower and no longer human. "There are three Ekons." He murmured, his eyes shining like a cat's in the night and leaving Becker staring at him warily as she drew her dagger and held it close to her.

A fourth heartbeat was raised up between the three, growing dimmer by the moment. "Someone's dying." He realized, breaking concentration to move forward. "We have to hurry. It won't be long before someone catches on."

And indeed it wasn't, for as soon as they made their way down the corridor and into the main hall they were greeted by the man in red robes. "My brother! This is an unexpected surprise, I must say, but not unwelcome." The newborn Ekon greeted, stepping forward to stand between Reid and the now dead follower lying on the stone slab. The robed man to his right set down a goblet reeking of fresh blood and the one to his right wielding a hatchet and giving the pair a menacing glare.

"I'm sorry, do I know you? I don't believe we've met." Reid might have sounded cordial enough, but his brow was furrowed with distrust. The man smiled and began to walk through the pews of robed figures, all who were turned back to face Reid and Becker.

"I am William Church, loyal servant to Morgana and leader of this fine order. We are honored to have another child of blood here with us, and it seems you've brought a gift with you!" Reid instinctively took a step in front of Katherine, now glaring at the cultist. "I'm not here with any such thing. My only concern is Geoffrey McCullum."

The name tore away the smile from the man's face, and instead it was replaced with a sneer. "That ungrateful beast... I'd give up searching now, sir. His fate has already been decided. You'll only be wasting your time trying to save him."

"What did you do?" Reid asked, though he wouldn't get much of an answer as a crossbow bolt shot out past his head and hit the follower with the Goblet between the eyes. "Bastards!" Katherine swore as she worked on reloading the weapon, and Reid had to act quickly to intercept the one with the axe as he shadow-stepped in to kill her. His sword managed to catch the handle just under the blade and lifting up yanked it out of the newborn's hands. The man looked surprised at Reid's reflexes, but Reid stepped in to pull his hood back and grasp his shoulder before plunging his fang into the exposed neck.

The blood that filled his mouth was bittersweet and smooth, and the doctor drank from it hungrily. The past few days had left him too busy or wary to try and drink anything, and he realized now just how thirsty he felt. He didn't even notice Katherine's plight until she screamed and he was forced to draw himself from the drained Ekon.

William Church had a crossbow bolt in his chest, just missing his heart, and a dagger sticking out of his throat as he loomed over the woman. Becker's wrist was held tight in the man's grasp and the other tore at the ascot tied around her neck, looking for a better spot to drain her of her life. Her kick between his legs seemed to do little but delay him slightly. It was Reid who stepped in to separate them with an explosion of smoky tendrils stabbing at him and pushing him back.

The congregation had effectively scattered during the struggle, and even the one on the stone slab was now gone. Only those dead or dying remained, and the moment Church realized this his face twisted in rage. "How 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆 you! She is a hunter! A monster to our kind! You would save her life and shun 𝒎𝒆!? I am a devout follower! The herald of the night!" He protested, getting back on his feet and pulling the knife free from his body. "You are a 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓 to your kind!" He spat venomously at Reid, who quickly looked over Katherine for any injuries. Seeing none he faced Church with an annoyed scowl.

"Do you honestly believe that I care what you think? You're insane! Just tell us what you've done with McCullum." He exasperated, closing the gap to grab the man by the head and force his influence on him. Hands clasped over Reid's as the newborn struggled, gasping in surprise and pain at the intrusion.

Reid's mind was a blur of red once he gained access, a sinister laugh echoing in his mind and an overwhelming feeling of dread encompassed him. It brought Reid a mix of bad feelings, but he'd gotten through. The man lifted a hand to point to an iron door to the side, gritting out. "Cell... Down the hall..!" Reid let go as soon as he had the information, gasping for breath at the relief from the pressure. Just what in god's name did this man have in his mind? He backed away, shaking his head and moving for the door.

"Doctor Reid! Wait!" Katherine called after him, but stopped by the collapsed form of Chrush. Pursing her lips in thought she let him go, and instead collected her dagger from the ground. Reid wouldn't kill Geoffrey, but this leech would kill any and all of them if given the chance.

 

It would only take a couple of minutes for Reid to find where Geoffrey was kept. Davenport was waiting outside of the open cell door and tensed at the sight of Reid. "Where's Katherine?" He asked, drawing his shotgun on him and glaring accusingly. "What did you do to her, Leech!?"

"She's fine!" Reid snapped, bringing a hand up in surrender as he sheathed the sword. "I didn't hurt her. She's taking care of the man responsible for this. How is McCullum?" He asked, and Davenport's hesitation was not a welcoming response. It didn't get to last, however, as a pained gasp emanated from the cell and Davenport rushed in. The shotgun went off, followed by a howl of pain, and Reid shadow stepped over to see what the commotion was.

Wesley was backed into the corner holding his bleeding neck, his bandana ripped from him and Davenport looming over Geoffrey with shotgun still in hand. Geoffrey looked like a mix of shock and agony as he pressed his only free hand to the fresh wound in his gut. He was smattered with blood and grime, his hair unkempt and left strapped to a metal chair in only a pair of old tattered pants. Dark sunken eyes and a horribly pale complexion made him look like death itself.

Wesley had tried to free him only to get bitten quite harshly. Now they were standing in silence as it sunk in. They were too late to save Geoffrey... He'd been turned into a vampire, and a starving one at that.

Reid attempted to take a step towards Wesley only for Davenport to whirl around and cock the shotgun again, aiming it at his face. "Not another step." He warned, though even he looked shaken by the news.

"Reid...?" Geoffrey rasped, that enraged and wild look to his eyes clearing up somewhat from the blood and the pain. He looked between the three of them, and his eyes lingered on Wesley.

"Christ, what have I done?" He whispered, touching his lips and seeing the fresh blood on his fingers only to rub them together and purse his lips. He wanted 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆.


	10. Hunger pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey's having a rough time getting himself under control now that he's free and still starving. Especially when he's got his own personal devil in his head egging him on.

How ironic that one of the first things Geoffrey can clearly and coherently see is the Vampire he encountered time and time again in his investigation on the skal epidemic. Jonathan Reid, whom he taunted, fought, lost to, and bargained with staring down at him in pity and guilt. He'd commented on how the Doctor killed a woman so soon after turning, and had it not been for Davenport he might have done the same to Wesley! Of the myriad of emotions he felt in that moment shame and anger were the most prominent.

"I'm just trying to help." Jonathan's voice was cautious, his eyes glancing between the shotgun and Geoffrey and appearing totally unphased by the thick smell of fresh blood in the air. Geoffrey knew leeches were driven mad by the stuff, like frenzied sharks, but it wasn't until now while he was experiencing it first hand that he realized the willpower it must take for Jonathan to ignore it. He knew Wesley, he cared about him and the others like family, and he'd gladly die for them if it came to it! But Lord above he wanted to tear his throat out and drain him right now. The thought was as jarring as it was terrifying for the hunter, who breathed ragged breaths through his mouth and pressed his free hand to the still burning shotgun blast to his stomach.

"Like hell I'll believe that! Step back, leech! We don't need your "help"!"

"H-oward." Wesley choked, spitting out some blood before continuing in a clearer tone. "Lower the gun."

When he made no movements Wesley took the liberty to push himself up to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall and pressing the remains of his bandana into the wound, staring at Davenport to watch him as Reid carefully stepped in to examine it. He didn't shoot, but he clearly didn't trust Reid to control himself. When Geoffrey moved his hand to the shackle still holding him to the chair, however, then he changed targets. Geoffrey couldn't help but glare at him in turn.

"If you're going to shoot me, Captain, actually fucking kill me this time, will you? Do us all a favor." He spat with more malic in his voice than he intended. The comment gained a concerned glance from the other two in the room, though they said nothing.

"Sir- You're... I-I mean, I don't... Wesley, what do we do about this? He's a 𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒉!"

"And right bloody here, thanks for reminding me! You do what you're trained to do, obviously! And why the hell is 𝒉𝒆 here?" Jonathan paused at Geoffrey's tone, but effectively bit back his commentary.

"I brought him... Took it to- a vote. Quickest way to find you."

"Not quick enough, apparently." The tension was becoming rather palpable and only grew worse as Geoffrey managed to forcibly pull open the shackle with his newfound strength. There were hesitant, uncertain glances exchanged all around.

"Geoffrey." Reid finally spoke up, gesturing for Wesley to put pressure back on the wound before facing the Irishman. "I understand the stress you must be feeling right now, but I can assure you it's not as bad as you hunters might think."

"Bullshit." Came the growled response, and Geoffrey made an attempt to get to his feet, only to find his limbs didn't quite want to work right, causing him to grip the arms of the chair to stay balanced. After another glare toward Davenport with his shotgun the man finally relented and lowered it, instead moving to Wesley's side to help usher him out where it was safer.

"I'm serious. It's difficult in the beginning... Night impossible, it feels like, but I promise you it gets easier to resist; to deal with. It's no reason to lie down and die."

"I'm not going to kill myself, Reid."

The bluntness and answer seemed to catch the doctor off guard. Geoffrey certainly didn't seem the type to mind dying for a cause, and to become a vampire was probably the worst thing a man in his position could do. "Oh- Well that's.. That's good to hear. I'm glad-"

"These bastards need to suffer first." And there it was. A vendetta to keep him going. Reid should have known, but it still brought a certain disappointment to his sigh.

"Geoffrey..."

"Don't 'Geoffrey' me, Reid! Those bastards killed one of my men! Tortured and starved me! Threw me in some fucked up arena that looked more like a mass grave for their own fucking amusement!" He managed to get to his feet now, stumbling a step before grabbing onto Reid's lapels. Mostly it was to keep him balanced, and Reid seemed to understand as he didn't offer resistance to the angry yelling or the desperation in the hunter's grip.

"And then, when I didn't die like they wanted some fucking demon leech turned me! And they fucking 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒅 me after, Reid! I don't even know how long I've been here now! Those monsters deserve everything of what's coming to them and more, human or not."

So that blood they were drinking from before had been Geoffrey's! Jonathan felt sick at the thought of being used like that, especially as a newborn. The doctor could offer no argument after that, though his lips still pursed with concern for the sheer anger and hatred Geoffrey was exhibiting. It was true Ekons felt things far stronger than people, but something about this was disturbingly familiar to the man.

"Let's just... leave this place, alright? We'll have more time to talk once we get back to London."

"Talk all you want, Reid, but do not think your words can sway me."

Reid placed his hands over Geoffrey's and after a moment the man relented his grip. Jonathan then turned to hook an arm around him and help support his weight as he led him out into the hall. No sign of the others. If they were smart they'd be out at the ambulance by now, and Reid led them the direction he came from to follow suit.

Back into the main hall they were met with the still bleeding Church, leader of this insane cult, and Becker with her crossbow aimed at his head. The sight of the man made Geoffrey tense under Reid's grasp like a snake ready to strike, and before he could tighten his grip or warn anyone Geoffrey had broken free from him and charged in to pounce on the man with a sudden strength Jonathan had not anticipated. Becker gasped in surprise and tried to fire a crossbow at her now turned leader, but luckily Reid was there to stop her, shadow-stepping in to grab her weapon and lift it up out of the way.

"Ah, Mr. McCullum. Can't say I'm thrilled to see y-" "SHUT UP!" A violent punch to the cultist's mouth cut him off quickly, and though the teeth cut Geoffrey's knuckles he didn't seem to even notice, instead offering two more fierce blows to the head. "Not another WORD you fucking LUNATIC!" His mind was in a red haze, wanting to cause this man as much pain as possible as quickly as possible. Not even bloodying his face was feeding this hunger for revenge that consumed him. After another punch he changed tactics, grabbing him by the hair and standing to drag him to the stone table.

"Geoffrey what are you doing!?" Becker's question sounded more like a plea, but it fell on deaf ears. She would have surely tried to stop McCullum if Reid wasn't stopping her. No doubt the doctor wanted to interfere as well, but for the safety of Becker being the only human in the room he stood firm as Geoffrey climbed on the table as well, stepping on Church's throat to hold him in place as he reached up to the large dagger the statue held. With his anger and hatred fueling him he managed to pry it loose and toss it in his hand, sneering down at the man who helped cause him so much pain.

'Good, my champion! Make them all 𝓹𝓪𝔂 for daring to cross you! Show them the strength you've been gifted.' The ethereal voice cooed in his ear, reinforcing his will to kill this bastard.

He stepped off him only to kneel and plunge the blade into his progeny's heart, twisting when the man's wail wasn't enough. He began to drag the blade down when a hand clutched his arm and pulled him off, followed by another around his torso.

"..offrey! Geoffrey that's 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉!" Reid was practically shouting as he dragged him from the tablet. He dropped the dagger that was still clutched tightly in his hand and focused on Reid's face. The concern in his eyes was even strange than when he'd found him, and Geoffrey found it easier to regain his focus in them. "I... I'm..." what could he say? Not in control? Losing it already? Hearing voices? Nothing he could think of would help the situation. He instead glanced at Becker, who looked as uncertain as the others.

"Burn him." Was all he ordered, and the woman nodded. Despite her reservations on Geoffrey, she knew better than any of them the job came first. As she stepped forward to do so Reid led him outside and towards the ambulance where Davenport was finishing up the bandages around Wesley's neck. At the sight of them his hushed whispers fell silent and he avoided eye contact.

"I think it's best if we take two vehicles." Reid stated as they approached. The one oversight on his end was having a starving, mad newborn on their hands and a long car ride full of vampire hunters and former associates to Geoffrey. Things would be tense, to say the least.

"And what makes you think we won't just kill the both of you and go back on our own? Priwen can't be led by some leech." Davenport offered, his shotgun still loaded and ready at his side.

"You've had better chances already, hunter. If you try it now I can't guarantee your safety. Geoffrey does not seem well, even for a newborn Ekon." He explained, to which Geoffrey piped up. "'m right here, bastards." Still, he seemed distant. That outburst seemed to shock him just as much as it did Reid and Becker. After a glance towards him Wesley nodded and gestured to the only other car still parked there. Church didn't seem like he needed it anyhow. As Reid went to set Geoffrey down in the back Davenport took Becker towards the car.

"You'd do better to just kill me now, Reid." Geoffrey stated, sounding all too familiar to the time he was spared at Pembroke. Reid merely shook his head and sat him down before shutting the doors to the ambulance. "One of these days, Geoffrey McCullum, you're going to learn that I can be just as stubborn and deaf as you are. Now try to relax. Sleep if you can. You've been through enough to warrant a bit of shut-eye." Reid offered a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, gently patting the hunter on the shoulder before moving up to the driver's seat.

After spotting the three hunters in their new vehicle he started up the ambulance and began the long, eerily quiet journey back to Pembroke.


	11. Blood of Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid discovers Geoffrey's maker and Geoffrey learns just how bad his situation is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reid and McCullum are some sad bois who just need a fucking hug good lord.

Some strange part of him had imagined things going far better than they had while rescuing McCullum. Sure, none of the Captains had died and the fighting had been relatively swift and clean, but the news of their leader's transformation and his violent outburst had very clearly left everyone unsettled. Even Reid had a strange sort of foreboding looming over him; as if Geoffrey's predicament was only part of the problem at hand. He was tempted to ask the man, but one glance in the rearview mirror at his huddled form told him it was probably best to leave him be for a while. He had a distance look in his eyes, though still twisted into an angry glare, and didn't budge save for the small bumps in the road lightly jostling him.

Reid's frown only deepened as he looked back to the road, noting how the sky seemed to grow lighter. They didn't have much time, but thankfully London's street lamps and cobblestone streets were quickly approaching, welcoming them back through the West End. Turning onto the main road he takes it straight to the hospital, slowing to park it along the side where the scaffolding still skirted his office window.

"It reeks of blood here." Geoffrey piped up as Reid shifted the ambulance into park and stood to climb out. The voice surprised him somewhat, looking back to see Geoffrey's nose crinkled in what looked like disgust.

"Well it 𝘪𝘴 a hospital." That earned an entirely unamused look from the Irishman, who scowled in turn. Too soon for sarcasm, perhaps.

"I mean it's 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞." At Reid quizzical brow raise the hunter elaborated. "It's making my throat and teeth ache more than they already are."

"Ah. I know, it's difficult, but you'll have to bear with me just a little while longer- unless you'd prefer the sun?"

"Don't push your luck, Reid. I'd prefer a lot of things over this 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆. Mocking me isn't going to make me feel better about any of this, least of all being at Pembroke again."

Reid opened up the back door and climbed out, offering a hand to help Geoffrey out as well. It was promptly ignored as the man stepped out onto the street and covered his nose with the back of his hand, glancing around for witnesses but locking his gaze towards the front entrance. There may have been a wall between them but Reid knew what he was seeing. A small pool of fresh, flowing blood just waiting to be drained. It'd be a siren's song for the man, which was why Reid placed a hand on his back to guide him to the scaffolding.

"I doubt there are any who want to see you back here beyond myself after you and your guard stormed this place. Be warned this is going to feel nauseating, but I can't have you attacking any of the staff or patients, so..." The hand on Geoffrey's back moved further to hold tight around his waist while the other pressed to his chest before Reid focused on the destination and shadow leaped up to the open window. The reaction was about as expected. A sharp, surprised gasp of air and a firm hand pressed over the one he placed on the hunter's chest. Geoffrey had to take a moment to steady himself before he slipped out of Reid's now loose grasp.

"Was that really necessary?" The hunter huffed as he stepped further into the room, scanning for anything out of the ordinary or dangerous before Reid was there guiding him to a stool to the right.

"Maybe not, but it's better to be safe than sorry, particularly with how starved you appear. What exactly happened back there, if you don't mind my asking?" He'd hoped to keep McCullum talking, keeping active while he prepared a syringe. He needed a sample of blood, just to put his mind more at ease. If he could confirm he was just paranoid about Geoffrey's condition then he'd feed the man and let him go waging his wars with a careful eye. If he was right then they had a much bigger problem on their hands.

"I told you already."

"Briefly, perhaps. I'd like to hear it again for posterity's sake."

An agitated sigh and Geoffrey shook his head, combing a hand through his hair and grimacing at the feel of it. He really needed a bath.

"Fine, but you answer my questions in turn, and no tricks!" He warned, shooting a warning glare to the other's back. He heard only a slight hum of an agreement and continued. "They said they wanted to get rid of me and my guard at the start. Some garbage about bringing in a new age, of which I didn't care to listen more than what I was forced to. It was crazy ramblings about leeches taking over and trying to get rid of the only people standing in the way. Besides the lectures and the beatings they- What's that for?"

The hunter was quick to spot the needle once Reid had turned to face him and matched the doctor's sympathetic gaze with a dangerous one of his own, suspicious and wary.

"I need a small sample of your blood, just to test something."

Oh, he didn't like that. Tensing in his seat Geoffrey considered his risk of facing the sun instead. "Testing what, exactly?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I... I think whoever made you might have carried something in their blood."

"Like one of those filthy rabid leeches." He surmised grimly. Reid could only nod and hope Geoffrey would cooperate, taking a step closer and holding his hand out palm facing upwards. It was a request, but if Geoffrey resisted it would become a demand, Reid couldn't let another outbreak happen here, he wouldn't let Elizabeth's death be completely in vain, as unnecessary as it was she'd been convinced beyond words it was vital to preventing another disaster.

Thankfully the Irishman slowly offered his arm, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Reid clean the injection site and press the needle into his skin. "She- 𝒊𝒕 wasn't... Wasn't just some normal leech. I'd never seen anything like it. After I managed to kill one of those wolfish bastards in their arena she showed up out of thin air."

With the syringe of blood taken he pressed a hand to the spot and watched the doctor get to work creating a sample to put under his microscope as Geoffrey continued.

"The thing looked like a demon made of blood and horns, I'm still not convinced any of it was 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, just some waking nightmare meant to haunt me." He admitted, and was surprised at Reid's eyes staring wide with surprise back at him. "What?"

"Made of blood? That's... impossible. Myyrdin and the Red Queen are asleep! That's what-"

"Woah, woah, what the hell are you talking about? The 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 now?"

"Ah, you still don't know the full story. The Skal epidemic was because infected vampire blood was given to a sickly woman who then mutated and spread it to others she came in contact with."

"Such as Doris Fletcher. I know that part."

"You knew it was vampire blood, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 what was carried with it. The Blood of Hate was some ancient disease carried through Willaim Marshall and his prodigy over the centuries. Where 𝒉𝒆 got it from was an even more ancient, evil creature made entirely of blood called the Red Queen. My maker is also one such creature, although not as old or powerful I'd imagine. I'm not sure what to call them, exactly, but he turned me so I could fight off the Red Queen and put a stop to this disaster."

The information seemed to fill Geoffrey with a sense of dread, and then a spark of fury at only just now getting this knowledge. "So you're saying not only am I a leech, but an 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 one!?" He snarled, knocking the stool over as he got to his feet. Reid had the foresight to step away from the delicate equipment at the outburst and watched him with careful eyes.

"I'm saying it's a 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. Believe me, Geoffrey, I don't like the idea any more than you, but we have to consider it. Until I can prove it by looking at your blood I'll need you to stay calm and hope for the best."

"The 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕!? The best is someone having enough sense to shoot and burn me before things get worse! The best is each and every one of those psychos that worship that Morgana demon dying the same way, just to be sure they aren't leeches already!"

Reid held his hands up to try and help calm him. He wasn't scared of Geoffrey, not in this weak, still starving newborn state, but he was deeply concerned. "McCullum please be reasonable." Lord now he was starting to sound like Edgar. "I can help you, I was already looking for a cure during the epidemic. If you 𝘢𝘳𝘦 infected, I'll make sure it doesn't spread further. Most of the Ekons turned by your blood were killed earlier tonight.

He probably shouldn't have said that last part. Geoffrey still hadn't put the pieces together like Reid had, likely because he'd been in and out of consciousness when they were bleeding him, but knowing he'd been used to make more vampires made him snap. "They did 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 with my blood!?" Eyes widened only a moment before he was grabbing the stool and hurling it across the room, shattering the mirror before lunging for Reid. He was looking for something to hurt, something to damage just to let some of his pent-up frustration out. He couldn't take it out on those more deserving, but Reid didn't complain. He did, however, easily catch the punch thrown at him and grab the hunter's other wrist before shadow-stepping them both towards the wall and pinning him there. Geoffrey was all fangs and enraged swears but Reid patiently waited it out like a parent waiting for their child to stop throwing a tantrum. The hunter didn't have the strength to break his grip but 𝘣𝘰𝘺 did he try. Kneeing the hell out of the doctor as he swore and accused and questioned in an upset haze.

Eventually, after spending the rest of his energy in a useless, near-frenzied struggle Geoffrey conceded, and even leaned forward to press his head to the other's shoulder, his shoulders relaxing as his breath became shaky and soft. For a man so ornery and weathered by trauma and pain it was rare for him to be any sort of vulnerable, at least from what little Reid really knew of him. He wouldn't mock the man for being close to tears over this news, nor scold him for the outburst. Instead he let go of his wrists and instead wrapped his arms around him, even if Geoffrey made no move to return the gesture he held him like he wished someone had when he lost his dear Mary, or after his first trench fight in the war.

No words were exchanged for a while, not even after Geoffrey pushed him away to retrieve the stool and sit on it with his back leaning on the wall. What could be said? They both knew Geoffrey's want to end this nightmare with his life, but he had a job to do. It was like a twisted reflection of his own turning, and Reid hated the thought. Eventually, he slipped out, withstanding the hallway's morning sunlight for a brief moment with a soft hiss of pain to shadow-step to the upstairs operating room and steal a couple of blood bags before rushing back into the room to hand them to Geoffrey. He gave him no thanks but took the bags to hold and stare at as he debated whether or not to drink.

"It helps not to think about it too much." He offered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder before moving back to the microscope. The result only made Reid's heart sink further, and he rubbed his temple with the feeling of a headache coming on.

A mysterious Morgana, likely related to his maker or the Red Queen; A cult with at least one newborn Ekon still at large; and Geoffrey McCullum turned and now carrying the Blood of Hate in his veins.

Reid supposed it was hope beyond hope to expect saving London once was enough to let him retire from this insanity, and peeled off his coat to hang upon the rack before trudging over to the bed to lie down. Things could wait until nightfall, and certainly Geoffrey had nowhere to go until then.


	12. Start of Something new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey has a talk with his Captains and has a run in with Pembroke's director.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (WOW sorry for the delay! I had a whole string of events with getting sick for a week followed by an immediate wisdom teeth removal and taking holiday leave up to Tokyo and Osaka! I'm back now though and still have a few days left so hopefully I can crank out some chapters before I have to go back to work!!)

Geoffrey McCullum was, in a word, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. It was a week of pure Hell for the man who had been kidnapped, tortured, turned, used and abused and above all 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅. He was the leader of Priwen, he was supposed to be the strong one, a protector of the city they could look to for guidance and yet he had to be rescued by Jonathan Emmet Reid of all people- of all 𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔. After another hour of internal struggle he had finally given in and tore into the blood bags the good doctor stole for him, that terrible new hunger easing enough for him to catch a few hours sleep.

If only it weren't plagued by nightmares of a bloody demon mocking his weakness, of his mother's open throat and his father's sickening praise. It wasn't real, but it was painful. He awoke mid-afternoon with a sharp gasp, swearing he felt his brother's hand clawing at him still as he scanned the room and spotted Reid still passed out on the bed. The man hadn't even undressed beyond the coat and shoes, and the hunter shook his head at the familiarity of it. He and Reid weren't so different, certainly not enemies as he said, but...

But it wasn't important.

Geoffrey didn't need to think about Jonathan Reid right now, didn't need the distraction. There were people he needed to murder, and brutally, as well as guard captains he needed to confront.

Standing up from the stool he stretched silently and went to the large sink to run the tap and wash off the blood and grime from his body. Thankfully there were plenty of rags and Reid was beyond out of it to interrupt the hunter, who helped himself to a fresh pair of the other's clothes stored in a locker before making his way to the window to peek outside.

The sun was still out, but sinking over the horizon, below buildings and far enough for Geoffrey to slip out and onto the scaffolding to look down. No one in immediate sight, but a slight glint of metal on the fading sunlight drew the hunter's gaze to a nearby building where he spotted Davenport waiting with a rifle aimed at him. Makes sense that they'd set up watch considering they didn't follow them into the hospital. Pembroke was neutral territory, or had been, but after their attack who knows if the treaties still stood. That would be an argument with Talltree none of them wanted, so they respected the boundaries, for once.

He raised a hand to signal he was aware of him before dropping off the scaffolding and landing on the cobblestone below. It was a heavy landing, not the most graceful, but he was still new to this undead thing. He hoped he'd never have to get used to it either, but focused on meeting Davenport on the bridge for now rather than dwell on his potential immortality.

"Sir." Davenport greeted stiffly, his hands gripped tight to his weapon. Geoffrey could hear his heartbeat, smell the nervousness on him. It was terrifying to think how efficient leeches were at reading their prey.

"Sebastian."

"You look... Better? I mean-"

"Don't." Geoffrey interrupted, holding up a hand. "Don't bullshit me with small talk, Sebastian, you're worse at it than I am."

Davenport grumbled in agreement, giving a small nod as he glanced away sheepishly. "Alright, well... What now? I mean... You're our leader an' all but..."

"But I'm a leech now. Trust me, I'm not happy about it either. I'm going to have to name a successor before someone offs me."

"Jacob said no killin' you." Geoffrey huffed at that. Davenport was a right bastard, but he treated their laws like something sacred. It meant a lot that he'd even listen to Wesley in staying his hand.

"Yeah, about that. I've got some words for him, getting Reid's help, turning a blind eye to our laws. I'm a leech now, Seb. Just as dangerous as the others. Hell, 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 so. I know how each of you fights, know how hunting works... I wanted to 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 you and Jacob while I was in that room. I could only see your blood, not you- not any of you! I would have done it without hesitation if I could've." He noted how the man swallowed thickly at the news, his hands squeezing the weapon a brief moment before giving small, quick nods of understanding and taking a deep breath.

"Right, right... But you look better now. Fer a leech, I mean."

"It's... Not as bad now, but still there."

"Geoffrey, Sir... I... I know Priwen's got its laws for a reason, sir, but... Well it just don't feel right huntin' you. You gave me a second chance after I tried muggin' the wrong target, helped get me and my sis off the streets. Hell most of us owe you our lives one way or another! Maybe... Maybe we can make an exception? Just this once?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this, from you of all people!" Geoffrey hissed, glaring at the man before his eyes darted behind him towards Becker approaching with her crossbow. "Sir." She greeted with a simple nod before looking at Davenport. "Howard, your shift's up. Go turn in your report."

"The shifts aren't necessary, don't waste your time." Geoffrey sighed, trying to wave them off. "I just need a meeting, with all of you. It's time to name a successor before you start your hunts."

Becker raised a sharp brow. "Hunts? Sir with all due respect, you 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 we won't." With a low growl the Irishman pointed an angry finger at her. "It's your blood 𝒋𝒐𝒃 to! Both of you! Christ, what have the lot of you been drinking? First you work with a vampire, now you're willing to 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 one!? If Carl Eldritch was here you'd all be 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕 for talking like that!" He snarled, glaring at the rifle lifted to his face at the outburst.

Becker didn't even flinch, however, just neatly folded her hands behind her back. "But he's not here, Geoffrey. 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 our leader, and you've already done things different from that old traditionalist."

"Watch your tongue, woman." He warned in a low tone.

"I always do, McCullum. You've already broken the rules by giving Dr. Reid Priwen's most sacred relic, so don't pull the 'traitor' card on us in a feeble attempt to gain our ire. It might word for Howard, but the rest of us still have some sense, even if the both of you don't."

She had a point, and it swept away any ground he might have had for a biting retort. His words died on his tongue as he looked between the both of them. "This is insane. I'm not fit to lead Priwen anymore- I'm not even human!"

"No, but it doesn't stop you from protecting people. Besides, the men already know you're back. Wesley felt the need to ease their worries with the good news."

"He 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕!?"

"Y-yeah... We told 'em we brought you back, and that you were resting up at the hospital until you felt better." Davenport added, lowering the weapon again and glancing away at Geoffrey's hateful gaze.

"But you didn't tell them the whole story, did you?" He surmised, shaking his head and combing his hand through his hair as he began to pace on the bridge. "So you damned 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of us by making me keep a secret I don't want for the fear that you 𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒔 might get killed for it! Great, just 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚! Really brilliant idea, you louts!"

"Geoffrey calm down, it will be 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆. So long as you don't give us a reason to kill you nobody needs to concern themselves with it."

"Except if they find out their leaders are lying and that I'm a 𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒉, how do you really think that will end? Not well! Being a bloodsucking leech is reason enough, Katherine!"

"You should trust them more, Geoffrey. Carl's old guard is long since retired... You need to stop 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 the repercussions and accept that times are changing for 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 now, even some leeches. We won't abandon you, Sir, no matter how much you push. It has already been discussed and agreed upon."

Geoffrey didn't want to hear this, any of this! These were traitorous notions, spitting in the face of everything he'd grown up to follow so blindly. He leaned on the stone railing, refusing to look at them.

"Get out of my sight... Go back to the theater, tell Jacob I'll be around to talk later tonight. I'm so... Rrgh!" He slammed the side of a fist down on the stone to express the building frustration. "I'm right peeved with the lot of you, going behind my back like this. I need to be alone before I do something I'll regret."

It took a little while before the footsteps finally faded and Geoffrey was left alone on the bridge. It was then that he let out the long, heavy sigh and rested his head on it, trying to take a couple moments to collect himself.

"As dramatic as ever, I see." Came an annoyingly familiar voice, startling the man into turning and raising his fists, surprised to find Edgar Swansea staring back at him.

"Swansea? You're a 𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒉!?" He asked, more shocked than angry at this outcome. He shouldn't be, not really, knowing how enamored the doctor was with their kind, but still it came to him as a surprise.

"Indeed I am, McCullum! A condition we both seem to share. I didn't expect... Well Jonathan told me you might be in trouble, but I didn't realize it would be that bad. I can't pretend I'm terribly broken up about it, though. In truth I find it sort of funny in a grim, ironic sort of way. Why are your thugs lurking around my hospital? Surely no one else is part of your witch hunt, are they?"

"It's none of your business, Leech." He said defensively, although he knew it was every right for the director to know what went on around his hospital. Edgar seemed to be good-natured about it, or as much as the man 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 be towards him. "Hm. Well, so long as they aren't barging into the hospital and taking anyone else... I am curious, McCullum... Was it Jonathan who turned you? If so, just what sort of trouble did you get yourself into this time?"

"No, it wasn't Reid, and it 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 isn't any business of yours, Swansea. Keep your inquiries far away from me, lest you start another epidemic from it." He spat, though his words only served as a reminder on what he might be carrying in his veins.

The shorter man pushed up glasses he didn't need further onto his face before offering a tight smile and a curt nod. "Very well, woodsman, I'll leave you to it, then. Have a nice night, Vampire." He mocked before turning to continue his way to the main entrance of the hospital. Letting out an annoyed huff Geoffrey storms his way away from the hospital, away from Reid and Swansea and his Captains. He headed for the docks, needing to clear his head and burn off this anger broiling inside his chest.


	13. East End Docks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan and Geoffrey share a moment and grow closer. From not-enemies to allies, basically. Maybe verging on something more.

Reid could only sigh heavily upon waking up to an empty room. Really it was no surprise McCullum had left, but the doctor still found it trying. He was reckless to just leave, likely to visit his guards, while he was still a newborn. He would have been more concerned for their safety had he not spotted the empty blood bags, and the heap of filthy clothes left in Geoffrey's wake. For a split second the thought of the man streaking around London at night was enough to get the elder to blush despite the ridiculousness of it all. His concerns were quelled, however, when he found one of his lockers had been raided of his clothes.

With a light scoff and a shake of his head he slipped on his shoes and donned his coat before leaving to follow after his inconsiderate guest, only to be stopped on the stairs by a familiar. "Ah, Jonathan! Just the man I was coming to see!" He looked up to see his friend looking down at him from over the railing, a folder in hand and an excited look on his face. "I've some new theories I wanted to try and I was hoping you'd be willing to join me."

"I'd love to, Edgar, really! Unfortunately, I've other pressing matters right now."

He didn't miss how the smile faltered slightly, or the disappointment in his eyes. "It's that war dog McCullum, isn't it?"

Jonathan pursed his lips slightly, knowing full well Edgar didn't like the man, and having every reason in the world not to. Still he couldn't just 𝘭𝘪𝘦 to him, although he would be sure to keep Geoffrey's lineage to himself for now. "I take it you've seen him...?"

"He was headed for the East End Docks, though I have no idea what for. Be careful, Jonathan, he didn't seem in a good mood when I spoke to him. Well... A worse mood than he normally is."

"I understand. Thank you, Edgar. When I return we can go over those theories, and if it takes a while I'd be happy to read your notes on the matter." He called as he continued down the stairs and through the hospital, off towards the Docks.

 

What he found there was a horrific sight. Two Skals viciously attacked and drained of blood. One's head twisted back at a horrible angle indicating a broken neck and the other missing both arms, ripped from the body and cast aside, as well as a muddy boot print on its chest. Thankfully these were rabid ones, stragglers from the disaster that Geoffrey must have come across during his stroll along the waterfront. The man didn't have his weapons, but it didn't seem like he needed them with this new strength of his. Jonathan followed the bloody trail down to the beach under the docks, noting another maimed Skal near a broken door to the sewers.

The realization that he might be following a trail struck Jonathan like an electric shock, and suddenly his careful footsteps quickened to a jog. If he found Old Bridget's hideaway and what few peaceful Skals remained... He didn't doubt Geoffrey would try tearing them all to shreds.

Thankfully he caught up with the man just as he was cracking the skull of one of the poor Skals against the curved brick wall of the tunnel. He could hear it trying to plead, clawing uselessly at the taller man's arm in an attempt to free itself from his harsh grasp. "Geoffrey, stop!" He called out, though he knew it was too late as the hunter dug his fangs into the dazed creature's neck and drained it. He managed to grab hold of him as he let go of the fresh corpse, pushing him into the opposite wall of the tunnel and boxing him in with his hands. "They're not infected!"

The wild-eyed look Geoffrey had was startling, like a rabid animal looking to maul its next victim. It passed, however, as confusion replaced his features and he shoved Jonathan away from him. "What the 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍 are you talking about, Reid? They're leeches!"

"They're not like the ones on the surface. They're... Some of them are still sentient. You can't just 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 them, Geoffrey!"

"And why not? Most leeches I've killed are sentient. That doesn't mean they're not still evil."

"Surely you can't still believe that all vampires are evil...?"

The hunter's hesitation was proof enough that he didn't, although he was quick to scowl and brush past him as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You can't just run off like this, Geoffrey. Your blood's infected, and you're still newly turned. If you attack someone-"

"I 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 attack someone. Not if they're human." He snapped back angrily, still storming off towards the exit, into a larger more open room. Reid was quick to catch his arm and stop him.

"Let me be sure. If you really care about the people of London you'll want someone to watch your back; Someone who can't be turned."

"And why should I trust you?" He huffed, pulling his arm free but turning to face him. "And stop 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈 me! I'm not some 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, Reid, and you certainly aren't my mother!"

"I'm a 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅, Geoffrey. I care about you, just as you care about your men, or the people. You might not like it, but we were never enemies."

Once again the hunter can't seem to find the words. Instead he crinkles his nose and turns to leave again, only this time it was a casual walk, not an attempt to flee or storm off to cause more destruction. Reid follows behind quietly until they're outside, where Geoffrey takes a deep breath of the cleaner air, going down to the water's edge to sit.

"I don't know what to do." The admission startled Jonathan, who knelt down beside him and glanced at his face. There was a deep concern there; the man was clearly troubled.

"About...?"

"Priwen. This... Morgana. Any of it. I wanted to name a successor and die proper to him or her, but apparently, my Captains would rather lie to the men about what I am than to fight me. I wanted to slaughter them for that kind of treachery but..."

"But you care about them." He guessed. "I know the feeling. Back in the war the men and women I worked with were closer than family some days. The people I couldn't save... It still haunts me. I imagine you must have a similar relationship with your hunters, putting your lives on the line as you do."

"I do, and these thoughts of killing them and 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 it... It scares me, Reid. It's this damn curse!" He spat, grabbing a shell by his foot to chuck it as far as he could.

"It's the Blood of Hate, Geoffrey. You're not... Well- You're not a very nice man, I'll admit, but you are good. This aggression isn't you, not really. I need you to stay close so I can work on a cure. You don't need to throw away your life because of this, I swear I can help. Please, I need you to trust me, just for a little while."

The hunter turned to look at him then, locking eyes and boring into his with them, searing for any sign of falsehood. It was perhaps longer than what some would deem appropriate, especially with them being as close as they were, but he refused to flinch, even as the Hunter's gaze seemed to flick down to his lips a lingering moment before hastily turning away to resume his sulking. Did he just imagine that?

"Fine... But I won't be cooped up in that hospital. I need to track down those bastards who were using my blood. If it's infected I'm sure that gives you plenty of reason to want them dead."

"Hm. And I'm sure your personal revenge has nothing to do with it?" He asked sarcastically, earning an amused snort from the other man.

"Please. It's got 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 to do with it, I'm just giving you a reason to join me, if you wish."

His brows rose at that. "You're inviting me to hunt with you? My my, what would the guard think?" It was nice that they could joke around a bit like this, and that Geoffrey's mood seemed to lighten with it, letting out another snort with an accompanying eye roll.

"Apparently they're pro-leech these days, so who the hell even knows?" Getting to his feet he brushed his pants off before offering a hand to help the Doctor up. Reid takes it with a soft smile, though neither let go once he's on his feet, keeping unusually close.

"I... Trust you, Jonathan Emmet Reid. Lord knows why, but I do. Don't let me do something I'll regret."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Hunter." He smirked, tempted to press closer and test his luck when a familiar voice from above called to him. McCullum was quick to let go at that, and turned to look up at the Sad Saint of the East End.

"Doctor! I had heard there was a fight in the area, I did not expect to see you here. I was worried someone might've gotten hurt."

"Sean. I didn't expect to see you outside of your shelter!" He called back, taking a quick moment to assure they were alone before shadow stepping up to the docks to greet the man. He could barely catch McCullum's exasperated gesture from his peripherals and had to bite back the amused smile as the Hunter walked towards the nearest set of stairs. He still had much to learn, and Reid would be lying if he said it wouldn't be fun teaching him.

"Some of my flock had just begun to head home, and with my hearing being better than most... I just wanted to be sure they were safe."

"I'm sure they are. Geoffrey McCullum was just clearing out a couple of rabid Skals he found, and... Well, I'm sorry to say he caught one of your friends in the Sewers." He was sure to keep his tone low, glad that Geoffrey was far enough for him to slip that information out.

"I see... I'll be sure to hold a funeral with dear Old Bridgett later once we recover the body."

As the Hunter approached Sean would greet him with a raised hand. "God smile upon you, Vampire Hunter."

"God's never shown love for me, Holy man. Stow it." He huffed in turn, earning a slight frown from Mr. Hampton. He turns to Reid instead. "I'm starting tomorrow. I'll wait in the West End for you where this shit began, then we can go."

He didn't even get a chance to respond before the hunter was skulking away, leaving him to catch up with his Prodigee before returning to the Hospital for the night to work and research his cure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((So y'all should know the original timeline/plot thread I had in mind has completely de-railed so I have no idea how many chapters this is going to take. They were originally supposed to share a kiss or a more romantic moment at the end of last chapter but it should still come soon. Let me know if it feels too dragged out, I'm trying to get there but get swept away with little dialogue things or small moments my brain suddenly wants to touch on. Let me know whatcha think so I can try to adapt better!!)


	14. Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find the last known vampire turned by Geoffrey's blood and deal with it accordingly.

It turned out to be an eventful night for McCullum. He'd tested his newfound strength and found it quite to his liking, if not a little frightening with just how 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 he enjoyed tearing a skal's arms off, or how quickly he could catch them. Being confronted by Reid was also... interesting. He still couldn't fathom why the doctor was so damn eager to meddle! He showed concern for the hunter, but also for the prey he had just drained...? The man was an enigma to be sure, as was Geoffrey's growing fondness for him.

'Not enemies, perhaps...'

...And now they were working together. As allies.

Strange times, indeed.

Speaking of, the talk with his subordinates were far from pleasant. After he made it inside and brushed off the warm welcomes and concerned questions with simple, standoffish responses he'd called them all down to the basement to give them an earful. He knew they wanted to argue back, to shout or fight as his downright unfair accusations, but they still respected the authority enough to stand and wait for the storm to blow over. It would, eventually, as any of Geoffrey's foul moods would, and they began their counter-arguments and discussions on what to do now. The future for Priwen.

No matter how much Geoffrey argued or how many (completely valid!) points Geoffrey brought up, in the end he was out-voted. Of course, as their leader, he could tell them all to bugger off and do things his way, but he wasn't that kind of leader. As much as he hated agreeing with Becker on this, he was not his mentor.

He'd spend the rest of the night combing over documents and clues until morning, sleeping in his makeshift office on the upper floor of the theater.

 

The next night began a strange sort of routine with Reid for the next couple of days. Starting at the Banker's house they'd begun to play detective, searching for names and locations of the cultists still out there. It wasn't Geoffrey's usual quarry since these were mostly 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 with lives and patterns and no obvious tells of being what he was hunting, but Reid was there to help take up any slack he left.

"Why are you helping me?" He asked the second night as they were heading to where a cultist might be.

"Hm?" Reid seemed surprised at the question, and a little confused. "...You asked me to. Why do you ask?"

"I didn't- You didn't have to come. I know you're a busy man, what with the flu an' all." He explained, gesturing to the boarded-up house they were passing.

"True, but... I want to make sure there's not another vampire epidemic. And..."

"...And you want to keep an eye on me in case I try killing someone."

"I cannot deny it's a valid concern. You expressed it yourself when you told me not to let you do something you'd regret."

"Hmph! 'Course..." They seemed to let silence settle between them the rest of the journey.

 

There were just small bits of information then. They'd find someone, play some sort of good cop, bad cop routine to get what info they needed (and just Geoffrey's bad cop when that didn't work, though Reid was sure not to let it delve too far into straight torture), and continue the process. All the while there were little things that were getting to Geoffrey. Occasional ghostly touches or bumps, a glimpse of a stare, or even a rare compliment. Taken of given and usually followed by an insult of some form (though slowly becoming more playful than mean).

There was something 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, part of him realized despite how he hesitated to acknowledge it. He wanted to bury it along with the nightmares of the demon and her vile laugh, or of the sickly sweet words she whispered in his mind. She 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 Reid, hated his maker, and loved to remind Geoffrey of the humiliation and shame he brought the hunter. Of all the hair-triggers he seemed to have these days hers were the worst. He'd lashed out with intent to kill a few times during the nights, wanting to break the bones of the people who hurt him even if they were still human. They didnt' deserve to live, but Reid was always there to stop him, to help people even at the cost of his safety and comfort.

The more he worked with Reid the more he respected his tenacity, even if it was fucking annoying sometimes and started to give him literal headaches from having to hold back the building rage. If Reid wasn't going to back down than neither was he. He definitely wasn't going to let some stupid leechy disease do him in, no matter how much that bitch Morgana goaded him.

"You haven't been sleeping." Geoffrey stated one night, distracting himself from the thought of disemboweling the vampire fledgling once they caught up to it. They were getting close now, Geoffrey was going to get to 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 something, but he couldn't get too excited, lest he makes a mistake and the bastards escapes.

"I've had these dark circles under my eyes since I was turned, Geoffrey."

The hunter rolled his own eyes in response. "It's not the circles, or the bags." He couldn't help the slight tug of his lips as Reid tried to subtly brush under his eye to check, and gave him a flat look when he realized the man was just teasing.

"It's everything. You haven't been eating, either. You look like more of a corpse than usual."

"I've been busy."

"Yeah, no shit. Look, I know you want to help make things right, but yer gonna run yourself into the ground like this. What good would that do anyone?"

Reid scoffed, quirking a brow at the other man. "Aren't you the last person who should be telling someone to relax?"

"No, that's 𝒚𝒐𝒖. I'm not the one trying to save the world from disease and destruction... Just an already fucked city."

"Oh, just a city, he says! Well at least you're starting small."

"Shut it." He huffed to hide his chuckle, elbowing the doctor not-so-lightly in the side. "And I don't do it alone, I've got an entire organization at my back; but you? Who do you have?"

"You... Edgar, Sean, El-" Reid cut himself off there, his gaze darkening. Geoffrey pursed his lips as he saw the signs, knew he'd lost someone he cared dearly for but didn't care to bring it up. Until now, apparently... Accidentally.

"...She meant a lot to you, huh?"

"She was there when no one else was. Teaching me about what I was, teaching me that it didn't have to be such a cursed life. I owe her everything, and yet..."

"Well... I imagine you're doin' her proud." He shrugged, unable to find it in him to lie and say he was sorry she died. He didn't like the grim look Reid had on his face, sure, but he didn't know Elizabeth Ashbury besides the reports, and the reports told him she was a leech who fed off of dying Pembroke patients. Not exactly a stellar role-model in the eyes of a vampire hunter. "But that's still no excuse to stop taking care of yourself and get sloppy. The thing about trying to help everyone is that they start depending on you. 𝑰'𝒎 depending on you now, Reid, and if you fuck up and we lose this bastard because you're tired I swear to God you'll never hear the end of it."

The threat seemed to do the trick, cracking a weary smile from the man's face as he chuckled. "Heaven forbid a vampire hunter speaks ill of me. Alright, Geoffrey, if you're so concerned I'll concede just this once. After tonight I'll go home and rest."

"Not to Pembroke?"

"Not even for a second."

"Good. I'll hold you to it, Leech."

 

Their hunt had ended badly. They managed to find their target hiding near the Whitechapel church and Geoffrey had taken off after him before they could even form a plan. For all his talk of Reid messing things up his tunnel vision had nearly done just that. Still, the young Ekon managed to pull ahead from Reid by shadow stepping and caught up to his prey in a small courtyard, barely keeping his senses as blood was splattered by claws and screams were cut short by gurgling blood. Geoffrey had clawed his throat open by the time Reid caught up, and he was far too focused on trying to cause his prodigy pain and suffering to notice a certain Ichabod Throgmorton hiding behind a couple of crates and trying to load a pistol with terribly shaky hands.

Not until he'd clawed his way through to the other side and twisted the already loosened head around to rip it off did the red start to fade from the hunter's vision and the pressure on his brain ease off a bit. It was then that he spotted Reid calmly explaining to the wannabe hunter the terrible butcher accident that happened, of how a sheep had not been properly killed and the blood and the screams were all a terrible, terrible accident. Geoffrey noticed the glassy-eyed look Ichabod had and took the cue to quickly dispose of the body as out of sight as possible.

He met up with Reid half an hour later. The doctor did not look happy. "Really stellar work, Geoffrey." His tone was bitter and sarcastic, making the hunter puff up defensively.

"What?!"

"All that talk of not messing things up and you 𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚 murder a man in an open courtyard! You were lucky Mr. Throgmorton was the only witness to that barbarism."

"A 𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘤𝘩, Reid. I killed a 𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒉! One who drank 𝒎𝒚 blood forcefully taken!" He snarled back, baring teeth and fangs as he grabbed the man's tie.

"That was reckless and stupid, Geoffrey! Did you even bother questioning him, or were you too busy acting like a wild animal?" Reid put his hand on his, tightening it in warning as he glared with tired eyes.

'He 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 think you an animal, the self-righteous worm' the sickening Morgana's voice came to him, his vision bleeding red as he grit his teeth in pain. "Shut up!" He snapped at her, though since Reid couldn't hear it, he could just as well take the order to be directed at himself.

"I understand you've been hurt. Whatever you went through in that castle it's... I'm sure you have every right to be angry, but you can't just lose your senses like that! It's a danger to everyone, more than those rabid skals from the disaster!"

"That's why you're here, isn't it!? To 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘵 me? Or would you rather leash me like the dog you seem to think I am?"

"It's not like that, Ge-"

"Then what is it like!? If you're going to lecture me every damn time then don't bother coming along! I won't repress this anger around those bastards, I can't! It's hard enough around you, or Priwen! I'm not some perfect saint like you! I'm a fucking bomb just waiting to go off, and every bit of a monster vampires are supposed to be!"

Reid let a heavy silence hang in the air as Geoffrey puffed and shook with anger. He was so much more volatile than Harriet Jones. He might not mutate like she did, but there was definitely still hatred in him overwhelming and terrible. The doctor knew he was struggling with it, he had to be! If he wasn't, well... From Mashall's journal entries he could only imagine what kind of damage the hunter would try doing if he gave in.

After a moment he loosened his hold on Geoffrey's hand and placed his other on his shoulder, slow and gentle. "Come back with me tonight."

"I won't go-"

"-We're not going to Pembroke. I already promised you I wasn't. I want you to come to my house, just for tonight. It'll be less stressful than going back to the theater, starving as you are."

The words made the anger melt into suspicion, confusion, then hesitation. He pursed his lips slightly, considering it, considering the soothing tone or the gentle touch. He had good points, and Geoffrey found himself 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 Reid company despite the turmoil he felt inside. Eventually he gave a small nod, conceding and letting go of his grip on the doctor's tie.

Wordlessly Jonathan began walking towards the West End and Geoffrey, sparing a glance at his still bloody, shaky hands followed suit, tucking his hands into his pockets and keeping his head lowered slightly, his gaze sharp and usually on the back of Reid's head.


	15. Reid Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings FINALLY come to a head as Reid and Geoffrey have a bit of a not-so-innocent sleepover at Reid's place. Chapter contains sexual nsfw content so read the chapter note please!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (WOW I am sorry for the long wait. It's been an absolute mess in my life lately and i'm just trying to get caught up on a bunch of stuff. Everything below the line of ------------- is just smut. If you do not wish to read it then please skip to the next chapter (when it is up). Fair warning I haven't written smut in yeeeeaaaaarrrsssssss so I apologize in advance if it's bad.)

There was a choice that bore down upon him once they hit the main street of the West End. He could follow Reid home like some sick, lost (and somewhat murderous) puppy... Or he could leave. As they neared the crossing Geoffrey found himself staring down the last easy escape route and wondering if Reid would give chase. Did he /want/ Reid to give chase? There was some temptation in that thought, a test of sorts... But no. Geoffrey was no coward, and he'd been scolded by the doctor once already tonight. Geoffrey really didn't want to prompt the man into further nagging should he actually catch him.

As his moment of opportunity passed he huffed softly and turned to look back at Reid. "I was under the impression you lived at Pembroke."

"Yes... and no. It's somewhat complicated." The doctor tried to explain, slowing as they reached the front door. "It's more out of necessity than anything. Between the patients and my condition, it's the ideal place for me to rest, what little of it I can manage."

If Jonathan had said that to him a few months ago he would have pointed out how /convenient/ that would be for a leech. Now though he understood the man wasn't doing it for selfish reasons, though he was still astounded at his level of restraint. Even being /near/ that place had made Geoffrey's vision turn red, the smell of easy blood was an alluring thing, especially for a newborn. He stayed at the bottom of the stoop as Jonathan stepped up and opened the door and stepped inside.

"Ah, Mister Jonathan! What a surprise to see you tonight. Your mother and I were just talking about you earlier- would you care for a cup of tea?"

"No thank you, Avery. I've brought a guest, Geoffrey? Come in, please."

There it was. The green light to enter into the Reid mansion. Even with the magic now gone Geoffrey found it difficult to take that first step. He didn't belong in this kind of environment, especially not when he once hunted Jonathan and tried to kill him! It felt... odd. Once he stepped into the foyer though he managed a nod of greeting towards the old butler.

"Oh, good evening, sir! Any friend of Mister Jonathan is welcome here, of course. Would you care for some tea or coffee?"

"No... thank you." He added, as though manners were but an afterthought to the hunter. They were most times, but the man felt self-conscious. Had he looked Jonathan's direction he would have gotten a knowing and somewhat amused smile from the man, but his gaze moved towards the butler's chest cavity. He could hear the labored beating of his heart and despite having drunk from his vampiric victim earlier he found his throat becoming increasingly dry as the seconds passed.

"There is no need to wait on us, Avery. Geoffrey and I will be up for a good long while. If Mother is already asleep feel free to retire for the night."

"Thank you, Mr. Jonathan, I will. Have a good night."

"Good night, Avery." Jonathan dismisses as he places a hand on Geoffrey's upper back to pull him back to reality before leading the way up the stairs. Geoffrey broke his gaze and followed, pausing only briefly to glance back and see the old man shuffle into the living room.

"Seems like he's on his way out. Must be a scary thought, living without a servant." Geoffrey mocked under his breath, still plenty loud enough for a fellow Vampire to hear.

"You're a war and a death too late for jokes like that, I'm afraid. I've been doing plenty on my own for a few years now, Hunter. I even defeated the Guard of Priwen without Avery's help."

That earned a displeased grunt from the man, who gave him a clearly unamused look as they tread down the hall. The soft laugh Jonathan gave in response seemed to patch the hunter's wounded pride enough for him to huff it off as Jonathan stepped into his room.

"I apologize for not giving you the grand tour but I figured it would be best for everyone if we weren't opening doors that needn't be opened," Jonathan explained with a careful tone. Geoffrey quirked a brow at it but instead of prodding, he moved to the man's desk to look over its cluttered contents.

"I expected it to be bigger somehow." He commented, flipping through some medical study material idly. He caught Jonathan out of the corner of his eyes removing his coat and shoes, getting more comfortable in his own home.

"Oh forgive me if it's not up to your standards, dear hunter! I had assumed you looked so out of place for a different reason."

"I didn't say that." Geoffrey corrected, turning to face the doctor. "Believe me I'd much rather live in a shack than a place like this. There's something that feels so /wrong/ about having so much luxury in a country where people are starving and dying on the streets."

"I agree."

"Really?" He looked skeptical as he raised his brows. "You took me to where you live for the night in a fancy mansion, but you /agree/ that it feels wrong?"

"We don't get to choose the lives we're born into, Geoffrey. I grew up here, and I enjoyed it, certainly! But those were different times and a much different London. Why do you think I became a doctor? Why I went to war?"

"The draft."

"An inconvenient time but my family has enough pull to where I didn't have to if I really didn't want to. It was the right thing to do, though. I've told you from the beginning I only want to help people. My ideals have not changed since I was bitten, and neither have yours I imagine."

Geoffrey didn't answer that at first. He tapped his fingers on the desk and pursed his lips in response, looking away from Jonathan, who, at the silence, raised a brow and stepped forward. "Your ideals haven't changed, have they? You still plan on hunting vampires to protect people, right?"

When he neared Geoffrey scowled and raised a hand to stop him. "I do- I will! Make no mistake I still want to kill every blood-sucking monster who kills without thought or consequence."

He hesitated as he looked at Jonathan. "But... Maybe not /all/ leeches. I can see some are stronger than this curse, more than the monsters I thought them as." It wasn't easy to admit this, but Geoffrey was managing it well enough. Stepping away from the desk and towards Jonathan, he adds: "You helped show me that, Reid. Despite trying to kill you, despite my stubborn pride, despite this sickness I carrying in my veins you've never wavered."

As he steps up to him he can't help but glance down at his lips, just for the briefest of moments before his gaze focused on the doctor's icy hues. "In another life we could have been fast friends before all this leechy mess."

"Maybe more." Jonathan adds, a hand grasping at McCullum's sleeve to keep him from retreating as he inches closer. "It's not too late, Geoffrey. For our humanity, sure, but not for us."

The hunter could almost swear his heart just skipped a beat despite how few and far between those were already. The proposition was a tempting one, but against every bloody rule Carl ever set for him growing up. Even with those boundaries and that fear of 'what if?' he found himself leaning in closer. He /wanted/ this, the world be damned. His soul already was when that bitch turned him, what's a few more sins to his name?

So with his free hand, he reached up to grab the Doctor by the back of the neck and press their lips together in a sudden (but not unwelcome) kiss.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It wasn't long before they had abandoned most of their clothes in a heap on the floor. Desperate kisses and rough touches exchanged as the hunter climbed onto the bed after the doctor. "Are you sure about this?" Reid had begun to ask, though his concern about the decision was cut off by a sharp bite to the neck, eliciting a surprised and pained gasp from the man who gripped the already messy brown locks. Geoffrey's lips would come back stained with Jonathan's blood, though the hunter licked it away with a predatory look.

"Don't patronize me, Reid." He warned, running his hands down the elder vampire's chest as he returned to the bite wound to lap at it and savor the taste of his blood. It was unlike the Skals or the vampires his blood was made to bear. Though it didn't sing to him as human blood might it tasted far better than anything he'd forced himself to drink since his turning. Had McCullum not already had a fair amount of blood tonight he could easily see this becoming a problem. Reid's blood was actually delicious... He wanted more.

Thankfully the man in question was there to pull him back to reality as he raked slender fingers through the hunter's hair. "Geoffrey..."

"Right... sorry." He murmured as he drew away from the marked spot on his neck. His hand would glide down to grasp his shaft and give it a gentle squeeze, a move that caused Reid to groan in satisfaction while the hunter began to touch and tease, letting his head fall back as his hands reach out to explore the man's scarred chest.

"Have you- hmm- done this before?" He asked after a few moments, and Geoffrey scoffed in response. "Of course I have. Believe it or not, I wasn't always married to my work, Reid."

"I meant with a man, though I find you having any sort of free time hard to believe." He teased, grinning at the slight flush that came to Geoffrey's cheeks and the regrettable pause in his flow.

"I- No. It's not exactly an accepted practice now, is it? I never- Why are we talking about this /now/?"

"Here." Jonathan sat up slightly, his hands moving to Geoffrey's sides as he tried to move him aside. "Allow me."

The man stubbornly held fast and looked like he wanted to deny Reid and his offer, like he was being challenged to his title. The doctor merely shook his head and pressed further. "Relax, it won't change anything. Let me take it from here."

At the hunter's hesitant nod Reid had them flipped in a flash of smoke, leaving Geoffrey feeling uncomfortably exposed under a very naked and very hard Jonathan. Luckily for him the good doctor was, as always, only trying to help. Climbing off the bed he retrieves a canister of lube and returns to climb on and straddle the other's lap. Opening and placing the canister by them he takes a fair amount to start preparing himself.

It took longer than it should have for Geoffrey to realize what all Reid was doing, but that time spent gawking at the doctor was far from unenjoyable. Between watching him move and the heated breaths that left him as he prepared himself the hunter couldn't help his own arousal. Taking some lube for himself he begins stroking his manhood with a pleased groan.

When Reid finally removed his fingers they were both well in need for more. Geoffrey reached up with one hand to Reid's waist to help guide him where he needed to go, and wordlessly the doctor would start to lower himself onto the man.

"Ah- fuck...!" Geoffrey uttered breathlessly, his hands moving to Reid's ass as he further seated himself.

With his hands now planted firmly on Geoffrey's chest for support he gave a low, slightly pained groan, keeping his head tilted down and focusing on breathing. Sooner now than it ever had the pain would quickly ebb away and Jonathan would start to move, eliciting pleased sounds from them both as things became more heated. Perhaps it was the vampirism that made the pain vanish so quickly, or maybe he'd just gotten used to it after all the recent bloodshed.

Whatever the case may be it felt good, and it only got better when the man below him bucked his hips up to try and match Reid's rhythm. He had to stifle a particularly loud moan with the back of his hand at the sudden euphoria that hit him, and a glance down at Geoffrey's satisfied smirk told him he just how much he was enjoying this.

"What's... a'matter, Reid?" He asked between thrusts, his accent sounding thicker in their desperation. "Afraid someone... might catch us?"

"You-!!" He clamped his mouth shut as Geoffrey hit that same spot as before- likely on purpose judging by his look. "-You're an /ass/, McCullum." He hissed, though there was no venom to it and he drove his hips down as payback. Geoffrey didn't seem to mind giving him guff, but the man also seemed to bite back most of the moan that escaped him.

It seems they couldn't even fuck without having some sort of back and forth, and yet neither of them seemed to have wanted it any other way. They'd go at it for a few minutes until at last they'd each reach their climax, careful not to wake anyone or arouse any suspicion.

Though Reid's bed wasn't exactly designed for two people to sleep on it comfortably the two managed to make due. Mostly thanks to how exhausted they both were between lack of sleep and hunts, as well as their latest romp. They slept in a slightly tangled mess as the sun rose on a new day that neither could really enjoy.


	16. The dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey has a bad dream and nobody is happy in this chapter :') sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So I apologize for the very very veerrrryyyy slow updates, I'll explain at the end if anyone cares to read (though it's a bit of a vent).)
> 
> ALSO let me know if you want me to just finish this stupid story asap or if there's too much angst because the more I write the more off the original track it gets and it's already becoming way longer than I intended. Just let me know and I'll force myself to sit down and condense it into a happy ending because right now I haven't gotten any feedback with it being too long so I intend to just keep going as is. If there's something wrong or something you don't like you gotta let me know or I can't change it!

McCullum had long come to dread the thought of dreaming. Since his traumatic encounter with his father-turned-Ekon he'd become increasingly plagued by them. Now after so many years of killing and bloodshed, of friends lost and families consoled Geoffrey knew better than to hope sleep would treat him kindly.

This dream was no different, though it came in a new form. The form of a woman in red, with horns curved and a mocking, sickeningly arrogant smile as she sat on a throne of bones and stone in the shape of mangled corpses. She appeared to him in the inky void, and her blood began to flow from her slowly and form the environment.

"It's been awhile, My Champion." She greeted, and though he was forced to deal with her presence he wouldn't do so politely.

"Fuck off!" he spat, giving her an obscene middle finger as he tried to turn and leave, only to be met with unending darkness.

"Come now, Geoffrey. After all I've given you, you would treat your mother so harshly?" She crooned, and Geoffrey noticed the blood pooling at his feet as it continued to spread. He wasn't actually going anywhere in this eerily peaceful hellscape.

Spinning on his heel he pointed an angered finger up at her, glaring and baring his teeth. "You are /not/ my mother, demon!"

She chuckled and casually rested her cheek on her fist. "Would you prefer to call me your God? Maker? I have given you life anew, reforging you into a more perfect being! Though apparently, you're a rather ungrateful child."

Geoffrey wanted to scream with how wrong she was, how much he hated her words, but what was the point of it? He was teeming with hatred and washing for a weapon or /something/ to kill her with! "I did not ask for this! I do not want your 'gift'! I'd rather fall on my own bloody sword than be made into a leech! You damned me!" He screamed, fists balled tightly in rage but unable to do anything about it. His words seemed to do /something/ though, as she and the Throne seemed to vanish in dark smoke.

Turning to find it again he was met with a young teen with a hauntingly familiar face. Every time the sight of this leech pained him, another stab in the heart.

"Ian..." He murmured, clenching his jaw and readying himself for the fight that would ensue, the cutting words he would throw... Instead, for the first time, he was offered a hand.

"Geoff." The brunette greeted back, his sharp green eyes boring into the hunter's soul. "...It doesn't have to be this way anymore."

He wanted nothing more than to take the hand, to apologize and hug his brother like before this nightmares began... But the logical side of his brain knew this was still a dream, one that was being manipulated.

"I can't... change it. Even if I wanted to-"

"You'd rather kill me again!? You chose some crazy old man over your own brother, Geoffrey! You TRAITOR!" Ian seethed, pulling his hand back and stomping a foot. "Da lost it, sure, but I BEGGED you to let me go! I didn't kill nobody but he didn't care! You let that lunatic in your head and now look at you! Just like me, JUST like da!"

"SHUT UP!" He fired a pistol he didn't realize he had- did it materialize somehow? Firing into the heart of his brother, shocking the both of them into a dead silence.

A heavy hand rested on his shoulder, and without even looking he knew it was Carl. This dream was just an echo of his memory... Different, but still the same at its core.

"...What was it all for?" Geoffrey asked himself in a hushed whisper, tossing aside the gun and pulling free from Carl's reassuring grasp.

"To stop evil, boy. It's not hard."

"I mean everything! All of this- all that I've done and it leads to /this/!? To me turning into a worse monster than anything I've put down!?"

"We're given the hand we're dealt, boy, no sense of crying about it." Carl replied, grabbing more firmly on his shoulder to turn him around and face the mentor. "You know what you have to do though, don't you, boy?"

Geoffrey didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. There were laws established by Priwen, and everyone knew what to do with leeches no matter who they might have been.

Carl's next words surprised him though. "You have to use it. Kill the monster you couldn't before. Make the world safer for everyone." The shock of it had Geoffrey reeling, and he shoved the hand away with a scowl. "Enough! no more tricks, demon!"

Morgana would appear next to Carl, about two feet taller and accompanied by the still bleeding image of Ian. All facing him. All tormenting him in their own way.

"Spite me all you'd like, child, but our goals are aligned. You wish to rid yourself of your failures and your demons, and I want my brother's champion dead."  
"It's a chance to atone." Ian pointed out.  
"A tool you can use to help innocents." Carl added.

"What are you even talking about?"

"The doctor, you fool!" Morgana sighed, sounding annoyed. "The man who made you look like an even bigger imbecile than you are!"

"Reid? Why would I- why would you want Reid dead?"

"He is an abomination!" Carl interjected, angry at the hesitation.  
"He's trying to use you." Ian tried to persuade.

"Because if my brother gets to meddle behind the Red Queen's back then it is my duty to make him suffer for it!" Morgana explained. Geoffrey could only scoff in response. "So you ask me to kill him? And you call me an idiot..."

"I am not asking, /worm/, I am commanding. I've let you have your fun in your little soap opera but I'm becoming quite bored of it. You are to kill him, and in the future when my brother tries to meddle again and stop Mother's divine wrath, you are to kill /that/ champion as well."

"Like hell! I wouldn't lift a fucking finger for you, let alone kill Jonathan!"

"Cute, but pointless. You'll listen to me one way or another, Geoffrey. It's just a matter of /persuasion/."

At the cue, the two other figures leaped forward to attack Geoffrey, who retaliated with claws and fangs in turn.

 

It was somewhere between the stabs and the snarls that he was woken up with a harsh slap to the face and cool, firm hands restraining his flailing claws by the wrists.

As his vision returned he met eyes with a very worried (and cut) Jonathan looming over him. Geoffrey's chest heaved as he tried to catch a breath he didn't need.

"...Are you alright?" Jonathan finally asked, hesitant, shaken... It panged the hunter's heart with guilt.

"Yeah M'Fine. Sorry." He murmured, looking away as Reid loosened his grip and relaxed.

"It sounded rather painful, your nightmare. It was certainly startling on my end."

Geoffrey shifted to sit up and Reid obliged by getting off of him and watching with concern from his part of the bed. "I didn't get you too bad, did I?"

"Nothing permanent, rest assured. A warning would have been appreciated though I must admit."

"I don't usually sleep with anyone, and... and it wasn't a normal dream, I don't think."

"It spoke to you, didn't it? Your maker."

The cautious look the hunter gave him was more than enough of an answer. "...I think this..." Geoffrey gestured to the bed as he tossed on a shirt, looking as pleasant as Reid felt knowing where this was going. "...Shouldn't happen again." There must have been something in Jonathan's demeanor that betrayed him, for Geoffrey was quick to correct what he'd said.

"-Not until this mess is dealt with. I've got a lot on my mind with this, and being around you... It puts you and the people of London in more danger than is worth right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I might be crazy, but that dream... Wasn't like the others. She- /it/ wants you dead. Some stupid blood feud its got with your maker, and we're the fucking pawns."

"Myyrdin never mentioned siblings, nor any Feuds beyond what he made me for... Perhaps he doesn't know? It would be much easier if he were still around to ask."

"Few things are ever easy these days." The hunter sighed, putting on his coat and rubbing his face tiredly. "We're not finished, you and I, but... I'm worried I won't be myself soon, not with this curse put on me. You need to help the people, work on that cure you promised."

"And you? Surely you can't be thinking about returning to Priwen!"

"I need to look through the records, make a battle plan... You'll just have to trust me." He hesitated a moment before going back to the bed and bending down to capture the doctor's lips in another kiss, deep and needing, but not crushing or desperate this time. It was a 'goodbye for now' gesture, and when he pulled away he gentle ran a thumb along the other's cheek. "If you find that cure contact one of my captains. Do /not/ come looking for me, got it?"

"This is hardly fair, Geoffrey. You know I can't make such a promise! If something happens to you or someone else-"

"It's not always your job to fix everything, Reid! The epidemic is over, there's no impending doom for you anymore! Just... Let me handle this, yeah? You do your fancy doctor stuff and I'll do the rest of the leg work."

After contemplating it Jonathan finally sighed through his nose in prolonged defeat. "Alright, I'll focus on the cure. I cannot promise our paths won't cross sometimes, but I'll do my best to keep it to a minimum."

"Good. Take care of yourself, Reid."

"Best of luck, Hunter."

And in a puff of smoke he was gone, leaving Jonathan with a bittersweet smile and a slight ache in his chest.

It wasn't goodbye forever, but it still stung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reason for my awful update times:  
> I'm getting out of the military in October, that in itself is a pretty big, hectic process and mostly it's just me trying to keep up with the mountain of paperwork and doctor visits I have to make, as well as setting up my college plan, my job plan, and a whole slew of boring, awful adult things I have to do. That on top of the fact that my job is an ever-rotating shift work schedule? it sucks ASS. Most days I work and just want to sleep, a lot of times I only eat like every other day and honestly it just drains me. When I'm not working i'm trying to sleep or stay up to get ready for my next shift time (of which I only get one day off between work strings). Beyond that people are trying to get me to go out and do things, which, is good and I should and I appreciate the effort, but to appease them and not be a jerk it means I gotta get up and force myself out to socialize and that usually takes up my one day off.
> 
> Basically I just haven't had the time and/or energy to sit and write and i'm sorry for anyone who really enjoys this story and wants it to end already. Expect this slow-ass schedule to continue until i'm out of the military and settled in back in the states.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: I drew that picture! You can find it here [ https://sad-excuse-for-a-life.tumblr.com/post/180439054315/drew-mccullum-and-the-priwen-captain-ocs-i-made ] on my Tumblr. (ONe of my Tumblrs since I can never remember them and I make new ones for my e-mails all the time)


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